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Readings  and Recitation 


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Library  of  the 
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EXTENSION  DIVISION 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/thanksgivingcele40sche 


WERNER'S 

Readings  and  Recitations 

No.  40 


©fyattkfijgtirittg    (Uetebratuma 


COMPILED    AND    ARRANGED    BY 


STANLEY    SCHELL 


NEW  YORK 

EDGAR  S.  WERNER  &  CO 


Copyright,  iqo-j,  by  Edgar  S.  Werner 


Contents 


Around  Thanksgiving  Time 

Autumn  of  1622  (historical  exercise) 

Birth  of  Our  Thanksgiving  Day 

Blue  Beard,  Story  of 

Brownie  March  and  Song 

Child's  Thanksgiving.     Kate  Whiting  Patch 
Country  Thanksgiving  ...... 

Dumb-Bell  Drill 

Elder  Snifnes's  Thanksgiving  Dinner.     Frances  M.Whitcher 

Farmer  John's  Thanksgiving.     Isaac  F.  Eaton    . 

Feast  Time  of  the  Year  (quotations).     Dora  Reed  Goodale 

First  Thanksgiving  (poem) 

First  Thanksgiving  (monologue).     Pauline  A.  Bristow 
First  Thanksgiving  Day       ...... 

Five  Kernels  of  Corn.     Hezekiah  Butterworth    . 
For  the  Jolly  Jack-'o-Lanterns  (song)  .... 

Fox,  Rabbit  and  Turkey  Illustration     .... 

Freedom's  Thanksgiving  Day.     T.  C.  Harbaugh 

Give  Thanks.     Doane  Robinson  .         .         . 

God  Bless  Our  Native  Land  (song)       .... 

Gossip  of  the  Nuts 

Heigh  Ho  !  for  Thanksgiving  (song)    .         . 

His  Riches.     Lillian  Gray    ...... 

His  Thanksgiving  Dream.     Agnes  M.  Smith 
Home  for  Thanksgiving.     Jean  Murdock     . 
Ichabod  Crane  at  Heer  Van  Tassel's  Dinner  Party. 

Washington  Irving     ...... 

I'll  Be  at  Home  Thanksgiving.     Lu  B.  Cake 
In  Football  Times.     Kathleen  Carman 
Ingin  Summer.     Eva  Wilder  McGlasson 

John  White's  Thanksgiving 

3 


CONTENTS 


Joseph's  Story  (entertainment).     J.  G.  Holland 
Kitty's  Thanksgiving.     Mabel  Packard 
Landing  of  the  Pilgrims  (song)     . 
Little  Pilgrim        ...... 

Little  Turkey  Gobbler 

"  Makin'  Things  a-Purpose  to  Be  Et."     George  R.  Horton 
"MakhV  Things  a-Purpose  to  Be  Et"— directions  for  reciting. 

Mae  R.  Perkins 

Making  Jack-o'-Lanterns  (action  poem) 

Mayflower  (acrostic) 

Miner's  Thanksgiving  ..... 

My  Thanksgiving.     Arthur  Goodenough     . 

"  My  Tumick's  Got  a  Pain  " 

Neddie's  Thanksgiving  Visit 

Night  Before  Thanksgiving.     Eva  Lovett  Carson 

Once  More  We  Hail  Thee  (song) 

Pessimistic  Gratitude 

Pie  Song  (song) 

President's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation,  1900 
Pumpkin.     John  G.  Whittier 

Pumpkin-Pie 

Pumpkin-Pie  (acrostic) 

Pumpkin-Pie  Makers  (entertainment)  . 
Reasons  for  Thanks.     Walter  J.  Ballard 
Scripture  Readings       ..... 
Signs  of  the  Times.     Paul  Laurence  Dunbar 
Spellers  (entertainment) 
Story  of  a  Seed  (entertainment)   . 
Story  of  the  Pilgrims  (poetry) 
Story  of  the  Pilgrims  (prose) 
Tanksgibbin  Turkey.     Jean  Havez 
Thank  the  Creator,  Not  the  Created    . 
Thankful  for  What  ?     Frances  Meacham     . 
Thankful  Frog  and  Unthankful  Cat     . 
Thanksgivin'.     Bud  Smith   .... 
Thanksgiving  (music)  ..... 


CONTENTS 

Thanksgiving.     Edwin  Markham  

Thanksgiving.     Amelia  E.  Barr  ..... 

Thanksgiving  (anon)     ....... 

Thanksgiving.     Harry  Romaine  .         .         . 
Thanksgiving  (acrostic).     Susan  M.  Best     . 

Thanksgiving  at  the  Farm 

Thanksgiving  Chicken 

Thanksgiving  Day.     George  L.  Raymond  .         . 

Thanksgiving  Day  (acrostic)  .         . 

Thanksgiving  Day  Is  Here  Once  More  (song)      . 

Thanksgiving  Dinner.      Lesbia  Bryant 

Thanksgiving  Entertainment  Program  for  Primary  Grades 

Stanley  Schell    .         .         .         .         . 
Thanksgiving  for  Harvest  (song)  .... 

Thanksgiving  Gourmand 

Thanksgiving  Hymn  (song)  ..... 

Thanksgiving  in  Old  Virginia.     John  P.  Bocock 
Thanksgiving  in  the  Gold  Diggings.     Ellis  Proctor     . 
Thanksgiving  Legend.     Gilbert  Nash 
Thanksgiving  Lesson.      Eva  Lyle  Dickinson 

Thanksgiving  Magician 

Thanksgiving  on  Herring  Hill.     Julia  M.  Tenney 
Thanksgiving  :    Past  and  Present  (entertainment) 

Thanksgiving  Philosophy 

Thanksgiving  Program  (entertainment).    Harriet  C.  Water 

house  ........ 

Thanksgiving  Ride  of  the  Pumpkins.     Ella  M.  Powers 
Thanksgiving  Sermon  ....... 

Thanksgiving  Song  (song)    ...... 

Thanksgiving  Song  for  Little  Folks.     Wm.  Howard  Mont 

gomery       ........ 

Thanksgiving  Story      ....... 

Thanksgiving,  Then  and  Now  (play  2  m,  2  f).     M.  Alfredda 

Shirley . 

Thanksgiving  Toasts    .         .         .         .         .         . 


181 
192 

Thanksgiving  Turkey  (song) 28,  29 


CONTENTS 


Thanksgiving  Wooing.     Minna  Irving 

Three  Little  Cooks  (entertainment) 

Three  Maids  of  a  Housekeeping  Turn  (action  song) 

Tit  for  Tat.     Laura  F.  Armitage 

Tommybob's  Thanksgiving  Vision.     Anna  M.  Pratt 

Tommy's  Dinner.     George  Cooper 

Tommy's  Thanksgiving.     Elizabeth  H.  Thomas 

Turkey  of  Life.     Wilbur  Duntley 

What  Each  Is  Thankful  For  (dialogue) 

What  Makes  Thanksgiving  Day  ?  (song) 

When  Johnny  Comes  Marching  Home  (song) 

Where  the  Mince-Pie  Grows 

Why  ?  (poem)        ....... 

Witch's  Daughter.     John  G.  Whittier 

Witch's  Daughter — directions  for  pantomiming  . 


Page 

•   173 

.   86 

.    .   83 

.  161 

.  109 

•  179 

•   93 

•  ■"•  ,163 

.   91 

.   80 

•   74 

.  119 

•   9i 

.   50 

.    .   56 

(Authors 


Page 

Armitage,  Laura  F 161 

Ballard,  Walter  J 130 

Barr,  Amelia  E. 147 

Best,  Susan  M. 191 

Bocock,  John  P.          .                 '185 

Bryant,  Lesbia             .                         120 

Bristow,  Pauline  A 99 

Butterworth,  Hezekiah ill 

Cake,  Lu.  B 141 

Carman,  Kathleen 44 

Carson,  Eva  Lovett 171 

Cooper,  George 179 

Dickinson,  Eva  Lyle 133 

Dunbar,  Paul  Laurence •   .         .169 

Duntley,  Wilbur 163 

Eaton,  Isaac  F. 154 

Goodale,  Dora  Reed 88 

Goodenough,  Arthur 103 

Grey,  Lillian 176 

Harbaugh,  T.  C. 156 

Havez,  Jean 167 

Holland,  J.  G 36 

Horton,  George  R .186 

Irving,  Minna 173 

Irving,  Washington 48 

McGlasson,  Eva  Wilder 144 

Markham,  Edwin 166 

Meacham,  Frances      .        . 92 

Montgomery,  Wm.  Howard 184 

Murdock,  Jean    .        .        . 122 

Nash,  Gilbert              128 

7 


A  UTHORS 


Packard,  Mabel  . 
Patch,  Kate  Whiting 
Perkins,  Mae  R. 
Powers,  Ella  M. 
Pratt,  Anna  M. 
Proctor,  Ellis 
Raymond,  George  L. 
Robinson,  Doane 
Romaine,  Harry 
Schell,  Stanley    . 
Shirley,  M.  Alfredda 
Smith,  Agnes  M. 
Smith,  Bud 
Tenney,  Julia  M. 
Thomas,  Elizabeth  H 
Waterhouse,  Harriet 
Whitcher,  Frances  ivl 
Whittier,  John  G. 


c. 

Page 

94 

;     .    163 

.    186 

.    us 

109 

106 

.    135 

.  .    .    178 

124 

73 

.    181 

,    132 

.,.',"■     90 

112 

.     .-    93 

..'.,..*     35 

.,'  "  •    150 

0     .  22, 50 

PARTI. 

Thanksgiving  Entertainment 


feome  fcae  meat,  anb  canna  eat, 
Qriii  £>ome  toab  eat  tfjat  toant  ft; 
Jlut  toe  fjae  meat,  anb  toe  can  eat, 
&nb  aae  tfje  Horb  be  tfjanmt." 

— Burns, 


Program 

PART  L 


Page 

I.— HYMN:  "God  Bless  Our  Native  Land" 11 

II.— RECITATION:  "Birth  of  Our  Thanksgiving  Day"      .        .  12 

III.— SCRIPTURE  READING 12 

IV.— ESSAY:  "Story  of  the  Pilgrims"     .        .        .        .        .        .  13 

V.— CHORUS:  "Landing  of  the  Pilgrims" 14 

VI.— RECITATION:  "The  Little  Pilgrim" 14 

VII.— RECITATION:  "The  First  Thanksgiving  Day"          .        .  17 

VIII.— PRESIDENT'S  THANKSGIVING  PROCLAMATION  19 

IX.— CHORUS  :  "  Heigh  Ho  !  For  Thanksgiving  Day ! "        .        .  19 

X.— RECITATION:  "Thanksgiving  Philosophy"         ...  21 

XL— RECITATION:  "The  Pumpkin" 22 

XIL— CHORUS:  "The  Pie  Song" 23 

XIIL— ENTERTAINMENT:  "The  Pumpkin-Pie  Makers"    .        .  23 

XIV.— CHORUS:  "The  Thanksgiving  Turkey"        ....  28 

XV.— RECITATION  AND  SONG:  "The  Spellers"    ...  31 


10 


PART  L 

Thanksgiving  Entertainment 


BY  STANLEY  SCHELL 


Decorations  :     Fruits  and  flowers  of  autumn ;  relics  and  pic- 
tures of  Colonial  days  and  times. 

I. — Hymn  :   "  God  Bless  Our  Native  Land."    By  the  School. 

God  Bless  Our  Native  Land 


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Through  storm  and  night  When    the    wild  temp  -  ests  rave,  Ru  -  ler      of 
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wind    and  wave,  Do  thou  our  coun  -  try  save,     By    thy  great  might, 
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11 


12  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

II. — Recitation  :  "  Birth  of  Our  Thanksgiving  Day. 
Birth  of  Our  Thanksgiving  Day 


November  has  come  with  its  festival  day, 

The  sweetest  home-feast  of  the  year, 
When  the  little  ones  mingle  in  frolic  and  play, 

And  share  in  the  Thanksgiving  cheer. 

And  let  us  remember  that  tale  of  the  past, 
Of  the  Pilgrims  who  gathered  their  band, 

And  offered  up  thanks  for  the  corn,  when  at  last 
It  waved  o'er  the  famishing  land. 

For  hunger  had  wasted  those  strong,  patient  men, 

Who  struggled  and  labored  in  pain, 
And  the  blessing  of  plenty  which  gladdened  them  then 

Gave  courage  and  hope  once  again. 

And  the  fame  of  their  bravery  never  decays, 

While  year  after  year  rolls  away, 
Since  the  morning  that  ushered  in  prayer  and  in  praise 

The  birth  of  our  Thanksgiving  day. 

III.— Scripture  Reading.  

Scripture  Reading 


[From  the  Bible] 


"O  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good  ;  for  his 
mercy  endureth  forever. 

"  Let  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  say  so,  whom  he  hath  re- 
deemed from  the  hand  of  the  enemy." 

"And  gathered  them  out  of  the  lands  from  the  east,  and 
from  the  west,  from  the  north,  and  from  the  south." 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  13 

"They  wandered  in  the  wilderness  in  a  solitary  way:  they 
found  no  city  to  dwell  in." 

"  Hungry  and  thirsty  their  soul  fainted  in  them." 

"  Then  they  cried  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  he  de- 
livered them  out  of  their  distresses." 

"  And  he  led  them  forth  by  the  right  way,  that  they  might 
go  to  a  city  of  habitation." 

"  He  turned  rivers  into  a  wilderness,  and  water  springs  into 
dry  ground;  and  there  he  maketh  the  hungry  to  dwell,  that  they 
may  prepare  a  city  of  habitation;  and  sow  the  fields  and  plant 
vineyards,  which  may  yield  fruits  c ':  increase." 

"  For  the  kingdom  is  the  Lord's ;  and  he  is  governor  among 
nations." 

"  A  little  one  shall  become  a  thousand,  and  a  small  one  a 
strong  nation ;  I,  the  Lord,  will  hasten  it  in  his  time." 

"  Fear  not,  O  Lord ;  be  glad  and  rejoice ;  for  the  Lord  will  do 
great  things." 

u- 

IV. — Essay  :     "  Story  of  the  Pilgrims." 

Story  of  the  Pilgrims 


During  the  seventeenth  century  there  was  a  great  deal  of  re- 
ligious persecution  in  England.  Among  those  who  suffered  were 
the  Puritans  who,  although  members  of  the  Church  of  England, 
disliked  some  of  its  forms  and  ceremonies  and  tried  to  make  a 
change  in  them.  The  name  "Puritans"  was  given  to  them  because 
they  sought  to  lead  more  godly  lives  than  those  from  whom  they 
differed. 

On  account  of  the  persecutions,  many  of  the  Puritans  settled 
in  Holland ;  but  only  for  a  short  time ;  a  number  of  them  returned 
to  Plymouth,  England,  from  which  port  102  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren set  sail  for  America  in  the  ship  Mayflower. 

It  was  late  in  au  :umn  when  they  started,  and  when  they 
sighted  the  bleak  shores  of  Cape  Cod,  Massachusetts,  where  they 
landed,  it  was  December  21,  1620.     The  Pilgrims,  as  they  were 


14  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

now  called  because  of  their  wanderings,  were  sturdy,  resolute 
people,  willing  to  face  any  danger  for  the  sake  of  what  they  be- 
lieved to  be  their  duty. 

After  ten  months  of  sickness  and  suffering  the  Pilgrim  Fath- 
ers gathered  in  their  first  harvest  consisting  of  twenty  acres  of 
corn,  and  six  of  barley  and  peas,  enough  to  keep  them  supplied 
with  food  for  the  coming  year.  For  this  they  devoutly  thanked 
God  and  made  preparations  for  a  feast.  Hunters  were  sent  out  to 
procure  the  Thanksgiving  dinner  and  returned  with  water-fowl, 
wild  turkey  and  venison.  Then  the  feast  was  made  ready.  Massa- 
soit,  the  Indian  chief,  and  ninety  of  his  warriors  were  present. 

During  the  following  year  there  was  such  a  long  drought  that 
the  corn  and  barley  were  stunted,  and  famine  seemed  to  stare  the 
Pilgrims  in  the  face.  A  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  was  appointed 
and  kept,  at  the  evening  of  which  the  sun  set  in  clouds  and  a  breeze 
sprang  up.  In  the  morning  the  rain  was  pouring  down.  The 
crops  revived  and  yielded  a  bounteous  harvest.  For  this  a  day  of 
thanksgiving  was  ordered  by  Governor  Bradford. 

During  the  Revolution  a  day  of  national  thanksgiving  was  an- 
nually recommended  by  Congress.  After  the  Constitution  was 
adopted,  Washington  appointed  such  a  day.  He  also  issued  a  sec- 
ond thanksgiving  proclamation  in  1795.  President  Madison  recom- 
mended thanksgiving  for  peace  in  April,  181 5.  But  the  official 
recommendation  of  Thanksgiving  day  was  mainly  confined  to  New 
England.  The  governor  of  New  York  recommended  its  adoption 
in  1817.  In  1858  thanksgiving  proclamations  were  issued  by  the 
governors  of  eight  of  the  Southern  states.  In  1863,  Lincoln  made  a 
proclamation  for  national  observance,  and  since  then  a  proclama- 
tion has  been  issued  every  year,  the  last  Thursday  in  November 
being  set  aside  as  Thanksgiving. 

V. — Chorus:     "Landing  of  the  Pilgrims." 

(See  page  15.) 

VI.— Recitation  :     "  The  Little  Pilgrim." 

(See  page  16.) 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRA  TIONS 


15 


Landing  of  the  Pilgrims 


1.'   The  break  •  ing    waves    dash'd  high  On      a     stern     and       rock-bound  coast, 

the     conqueror        comes,         They         the        true  •  heart '-.  ed  '     came; 


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3.  'A  -  raid         the     Btorm    they  ->  sang," 

4.  Whatsought    they    thus  ,  \;a    -  j  far?. 


The  stars     heard    And       the        sea! 

Bright        jew  -   els    ~"  of;       the      mine? 


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Not. 


woods 
with 


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thetawel  -come home, 
to  nor-  ship  Gosi. 


16  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  Little  Pilgrim 


It  was  a  gloomy  April  day ; 

The  Mayflower  still  at  Plymouth  lay,    I 

To-morrow  she  would  sail  away. 

Brave  Richie  More,  with  grave  Trevore, 
Stood  in  the  freshening  gale, 

"  The  Mayflower  trims  her  sails  to-day, 
To-morrow  she  will  sail." 

The  sailor  said,  "  Come  you  with  me, 

My  little  orphan  boy,"  said  he, 
"  And  back  to  England  go ! 

"  The  storms  have  left  the  ocean  clear, 

And  shines  the  April  sun; 
And  dead  lie  half  the  Pilgrims  here, 

Ere  half  the  year  is  done. 
Come  you  with  me,  come  follow  me, 
My  little  orphan  boy,"  said  he, 
"  And  back  to  England  go ! 

"  Yonder  your  brother  Jasper  sleeps, 

The  long  green  hill  below ; 
Your  sister  too  was  laid  beneath 

The  mayflowers  in  the  snow. 
Come  you  with  me,  come  follow  me, 
My  little  orphan  boy,"  said  he, 
"  And  back  to  England  go !  " 

"  O  dear  Trevore,"  brave  Richie  said, 

"  The  Pilgrims  met  to-day, 
To  see  who  had  the  faith  to  stay 

And  who  would  sail  away. 
They  saw  the  flag  rise  o'er  the  sea, 
But  none  would  yield  up  liberty, 
Arid  back  to  England  go! 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  17 

"  And  lovely  Mary  Allerton 

The  backhouse  door  passed  by, 
'-  I'll,  too,  be  true,'  said  she  to  me, 

And  so  to  her,  said  I, 
'We  little  Pilgrims  would  be  free,' 
And  so  I  can  not  follow  thee, 

,  And  back  to  England  go !  " 

The*  Mayflower  o'er  the  April  tide 

Upraised  her  wings  of  snow ; 
The  Pilgrims  watched  her  from  the  graves 

Of  those  they  loved ;  and  low, 
Sweet  Mary  Allerton,  said  she 
To  Richie  More,  beside  the  sea, 
"  We'll  not  to  England  go !  " 

The  little  Pilgrims  stayed  and  made 

For  us  a  nation  free ; 
And  all  we  children  are  to-day 

As  true  to  liberty 
As  those  by  Plymouth  rock,  who  stood 
And  saw  the  Mayflower  sail  and  would 

Not  back  to  England  go ! 

VII. — Recitation  :     "  The  First  Thanksgiving  Day." 
The  First  Thanksgiving  Day 


"  There  was  great  store  of  wilde  turkies  of  which  they  took 
many  beside  venison.  The  fowlers  had  been  sent  out  by  the  Gov- 
ernor that  so  they  might — after  a  special  manner — rejoice  together 
after  they  had  gathered  the  fruits  of  their  labors." — Palfrey's 
"  History  of  Nezv  England." 

In  Puritan  New  England  a  year  had  passed  away, 
Since  first  beside  the  Plymouth  coast  the  English  Mayflower  lay, 
When  Bradford,  the  good  Governor,  sent  fowlers  forth  to  snare 
The  turkey  and. the  wild  fowl,  to  increase  the  scanty  fare: — 


18  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

"  Our  husbandry  hath  prospered,  there  is  corn  enough  for  food, 
Though  '  the  pease  be  parched  in  blossom,  and  the  grain  indifferent 

good.' 
Who  blessed  the  loaves  and  fishes  for  the  feast  miraculous 
And  filled  with  oil  the  widow's  cruse,  He  hath  remembered  us ! 

'  Give  thanks  unto  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  by  whom  we  all  are  fed, 
Who  granted  us  our  daily  prayer,  -  Give  us  our  daily  bread ! ' 
By  us  and  by  our  children  let  this  day  be  kept  for  aye, 
In  memory  of  his  bounty,  as  the  land's  Thanksgiving  Day." 

Each  brought  his  share  of  Indian  meal  the  pious  feast  to  make, 
With  the  fat  deer  from  the  forest  and  the  wild-fowl  from  the 

brake. 
And  chanted  hymn  and  prayer  were  raised — though  eyes  with 

tears  were  dim — 
"  The  Lord  He  hath  remembered  us,  let  us  remember  Him !  " 

Then  Bradford  stood  up  at  their  head  and  lifted  up  his  voice : 
i(  The  corn  is  gathered  from  the  field,  I  call  you  to  rejoice ; 
Thank  God  for  all  His  mercies,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least ; 
Together  have  we  fasted,  friends,  together  let  us  feast. 

"  The  Lord  who  led  forth  Israel  was  with  us  in  the  waste; 
Sometime  in  light,  sometime  in  cloud,  before  us  he  hath  paced; 
Now  give  Him  thanks,  and  pray  to  Him  who  holds  us  in  His  hand 
To  prosper  us  and  make  of  this  a  strong  and  mighty  land !" 

From  Plymouth  to  the  Golden  Gate,  to-day  their  children  tread, 
The  mercies  of  that  bounteous  Hand  upon  the  land  are  shed ; 
The  "  flocks  are  on  a  thousand  hills,"  the  prairies  wave  with  grain, 
The  cities  spring  like  mushrooms  now  where  once  was  desert- 
plain. 

Heap  high  the  board  with  plenteous  cheer  and  gather  to  the  feast, 
And  toast  that  sturdy  Pilgrim  band  whose  courage  never  ceased. 
Give  praise  to  that  All-Gracious  One  by  whom  their  steps  were 

led, 
And  thanks  unto  the  harvest's  Lord  who  sends  our  "  daily  bread." 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  19 

VIII. — President's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation,  1900. 

President's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation,  1900 

"  It  has  pleased  Almighty  God  to  bring  our  nation  in  safety 
and  honor  through  another  year.  The  works  of  religion  and  char- 
ity have  everywhere  been  manifest.  Our  country  through  all  its 
extent  has  been  blessed  with  abundant  harvests.  Labor  and  the 
great  industries  of  the  people  have  prospered  beyond  all  precedent. 
Our  commerce  has  spread  over  the  world.  Our  power  and  influ- 
ence in  the  cause  of  freedom  and  enlightenment  have  extended 
over  distant  seas  and  lands.  The  lives  of  our  official  representa- 
tives and  many  of  our  people  in  China  have  been  marvelously  pre- 
served. We  have  been  generally  exempt  from  pestilence  and  other 
great  calamities,  and  even  the  tragic  visitation  which  overwhelmed 
the  city  of  Galveston  made  evident  the  sentiments  of  sympathy 
and  Christian  charity  by  virtue  of  which  we  are  one  united  people. 

"  Now,  therefore,  I,  William  McKinley,  President  of  the 
United  States,  do  hereby  appoint  and  set  apart  Thursday,  the  29th 
of  November  next,  to  be  observed  by  all  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  at  home  and  abroad,  as  a  day  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  to 
Him  who  holds  the  nations  in  tKe  hollow  of  His  hand.  I  recom- 
mend that  they  gather  in  their  several  places  of  worship  and  de- 
voutly give  Him  thanks  for  the  prosperity  with  which  He  has  en- 
dowed us,  for  seed-time  and  harvest,  for  the  valor,  devotion  and 
humanity  of  our  armies  and  navies,  and  for  all  His  benefits  to  us 
as  individuals  and  as  a  nation,  and  that  they  humbly  pray  for  the 
continuance  of  His  divine  favor,  for  concord  and  amity  with  other 
nations,  and  for  righteousness  and  peace  in  all  our  ways. 

"  In  witness  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  caused 
the  seal  of  the  United  States  to  be  affixed. 

"  Done  at  the  City  of  Washington  this  29th  day  of  October  in 
the  year  of  Our  Lord  one  thousand  and  nine  hundred,  and  of  the 
Independence  of  the  United  States  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
fifth." 

IX. — Chorus  :    "  Heigh  Ho !  For  Thanksgiving  Day" 


20 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRA  TIONS 


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THANKSGIVING   CELEBRA  TIONS 


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X. — Recitation  :     "  Thanksgiving  Philosophy, 


Thanksgiving  Philosophy 


"Hiss !  Hiss !"  said  the  Goose,  "  they've  taken  us  three 
To  fatten  for  Christmas — such  songsters  as  we ! 
I'll  be  tough  as  a  goose !    It's  a  sin  and  a  shame  ! 
Be  wise,  Mister  Turkey,  and  you'll  do  the  same. 

"  Hiss !  "  said  the  Goose, 

"  I  call  it  abuse !  " 

"  Quack !  "  said  the  Duck, 

"  I  call  it  good  luck, 


22  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Just  think  of  the  dainties  they  give  us  to  eat, 
Such  apple-cores,  squash-seeds,  and  gristles  of  meat ! 
Let's  be  off  for  a  lunch ;  see  how  fast  I  can  hobble." 
But  the  Turkey  only  answered  with  a 
.     "  Gobble !  gobble !  gobble !  " 

"  Hiss !  Hiss !  "  said  the  Goose,  "  'tis  a  sad  want  of  luck ! 
You  don't  know  a  thing ;  you're  a  goose  of  a  duck ! 
A  regular  quack — you  haven't  any  brains; 
You  don't  know  enough  to  go  in  when  it  rains." 

"  Quack  !  "  said  the  Duck, 

"  'Tis  a  world  of  good  luck !  " 

''  Hiss  !  "  said  the  Goose, 

te  'Tis  a  world  of  abuse !  " 
"  Quack !    Quack  !  "  said  the  Duck,  "  what  a  great  goose  you  are.'' 
"  Hiss !  "  shrilled  the  Goose,  till  you  heard  her  afar. 
"  Hiss !  Mister  Turkey,  the  world  is  full  of  trouble." 
But  the  Turkey  only  answered  with  a 

"Gobble!  gobble!  gobble!" 

XI. — Recitation  :     "  The  Pumpkin." 

The  Pumpkin 


Oh !  greenly  and  fair  in  the  land  of  the  sun, 
The  vines  of  the  gourd  and  the  rich  melon  run, 
And  the  rock  and  the  tree  and  the  cottage  enfold 
With  broad  leaves  all  greenness,  and  blossoms  all  gold, 
Like  that  which  o'er  Nineveh's  prophet  once  grew, 
While  he  waited  to  know  that  his  warning  was  true, 
And  longed  for  the  storm  cloud,  and  listened  in  vain 
For  the  rush  of  the  whirlwind  and  red  fire  of  rain. 

On  the  banks  of  the  Xenil  the  dark  Spanish  maiden 
Comes  up  with  the  fruit  of  the  tangled  vine  laden; 
And  the  Creole  of  Cuba  laughs  out  to  behold 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  23 

Through  orange  leaves  shining  the  broad  spheres  of  gold ; 
Yet  with  dearer  delight  from  his  home  from  the  north, 
On  the  fields  of  his  harvest  the  Yankee  looks  forth, 
Where  crook-necks  are  circling  and  yellow  fruit  shines, 
And  the  sun  of  September  melts  down  on  his  vines. 

Ah !  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  when  from  East  and  from  West, 
From  North  and  from  South,  came  the  Pilgrim  and  guest, 
When  the  gray-haired  New  Englander  sees  round  his  board 
The  old  broken  links  of  affection  restored, 
When  the  care-wearied  man  seeks  his  mother  once  more, 
And  the  worn  mother  smiles  where  the  girl  smiled  before — 
What  moistens  the  lip  and  what  brightens  the  eye? 
What  calls  back  the  past  like  the  rich  pumpkin-pie? 

Oh,  fruit  loved  by  boyhood !  the  old  days  recalling, 

When  wood  grapes  were  purpling  and  brown  nuts  were  falling, 

When  wild,  ugly  faces  we  carved  in  its  skin, 

Glared  out  through  the  dark  with  a  candle  within, 

When  we  laughed  round  the  corn  heap  with  hearts  all  in  tune, 

Our  chair  a  broad  pumpkin,  our  lantern  the  moon, 

Telling  tales  of  the  fairy  who  traveled  like  steam, 

In  a  pumpkin-shell  coach  with  two  rats  for  her  team. 

Then  thanks  for  the  present !  none  sweeter  or  better 
E'er  smoked  from  an  oven  or  circled  a  platter! 
Fairer  hands  never  wrought  at  pastry  more  fine ; 
Brighter  eyes  never  watched  o'er  its  baking  than  thine; 
And  the  prayer  which  my  mouth  is  too  full  to  express, 
Swells  my  heart  that  thy  shadow  may  never  grow  less, 
That  the  days  of  thy  lot  may  be  lengthened  below, 
And  the  fame  of  thy  worth  like  the  pumpkin-vine  grow, 
And  thy  life  be  as  sweet,  and  its  last  sunset  sky 
Golden-tinted  and  fair,  as  thy  own  pumpkin-pie! 

XII. — Chorus  :    "  The  Pie  Song."    By  Six  Small  Boys. 

(See  page  25.) 

XIIL — Entertainment  :    "  The  Pumpkin-Pie  Makers." 


24  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  Pumpkin-Pie  Makers 


Characters  : 
Goddess  of  the  Pumpkin-Pie.         Spice  Boys. 
Ten  Little  Maids.  Feour  Maidens. 

Pumpkin  Runner  Boys.  Little  Milkmen. 

Egg  Maidens.  Sugar  Maidens. 

Costumes  : 
Goddess  in  pumpkin  colored  cheese  cloth,  cap  of  same  ma- 
terial, having  gilt  paper  star  in  front.    A  wand  covered  with  gilt 
paper  in  her  hand. 

Ten    Little   Maids   in   short-waisted   white   cheese   cloth 
gowns;  hair  waved  and  flowing. 

Pumpkin  Runner  Boys  with  snow  shoes,  black  suits,  big 
yellow  wigs,  and  yellow  ties. 

Egg  Maidens  wear  white  suits,  trimmed  with  egg  yellow 
cheese  cloth,  slippers  and  sashes  of  same  color. 

Spice  Boys  wear  brown  suits  and  mottled  ties. 
Feour  Maidens  wear  black  dresses  covered  with  flour  dust. 
Little  Milkmen  wear  blue  overalls  and  calico  shirts,  no 
collars. 

Sugar  Maidens  wear  cream  gowns  and  pink  sashes. 
Directions  :  All  the  little  maidens  should  trip  in  lightly  and 
gracefully.  The  boys  come  gliding  in  or  come  in  making  a  noise. 
Scenl  :  As  curtain  rises  Goddess  op  the  Pumpkin-Pie  is 
seen  at  stage  L.  C,  seated  on  throne.  From  stage  R.  enter  Ten 
Little  Maids,  who  trip  across  the  stage  and  bow  low  to  Goddess, 
then  face  audience. 

Ten  Little  Maids  [sing]  : 

Ten  little  maids  from  school  are  we, 

Joyous  and  happy  and  full  of  glee; 

Home  for  vacation,  and  glad  to  see. 

The  Goddess  of  Pumpkin-Pie. 

[Ten  Little  Maids  face  Goddess.] 

Goddess.    Who  can  eat  a  pumpkin-pie? 

(Continued  on  page  26.) 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRA  TIONS 


25 


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Chicken  pie,    cherry  pie,  cream  pie  too,  Lemon  pie . .  black  -  berry, 

One  piece,  two  pieces,  three  or    four;  Never  had  enough,  always 

Gooseberry,  raspberry,  sour  and  sweet;  Cran  -  ber-ry,  ap   -   ri-cot, 


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i  -  ron        or  tin. 

a  -  ny  kind  will  do. 
called  for  more, 
e  -  nough  to     eat. 


Mince        pie,  cust  -  ard  pie, 

Cur-rant     pie,  cur-rant  pie, 

E  -  ven      to    the  mud  pies  we 

Pumpkin  pie,  O!  pumpkin  pie     is 


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ap  -  pie     or      plum,             Peach           pie,           sug  -  ar  pie, 

nice          and    brown,            We've        sam-pled    all    the  best 

made      when     small,             When  we're  ver  -  y    hung  -  ry  we   can 

the            pie        for      me.   There  are       no            oth  -  er  pies  that 

h  Chords.  * 


=ft^==F# — 0 


-0- 


yum!  yum!  yum!    Peaeh  pie!  peach  pie!  pie!  pie!  Yum!  yum!  yum! 

pies  '    in    town.      Chick-en    pie!    chick-en    pie!  Yum!  yum!  yum! 

eat    them    all!        Mud        pies!      mud        pies!  Yum!  yum!  yum! 

I  can  see  When  there's  pumpkin  pie!  pumpkin  pie!  Yum!  yum!  yum! 


s. i 


i 


;-= ^ '- '— 

Peach    pie!  pie!  Peach    pie! 

Chick-  en  pie!  Chick  -  en 

Mud  pies!  Mud 

O  pump-kin  pie !  pump  -  kin 


pie! 

Yum! 

yum! 

yum! 

pie! 

Yum! 

yum! 

yum! 

pies! 

Yum! 

yum! 

yum! 

pie! 

Yum! 

yum! 

yum! 

26  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Ten  Little  Maids  [dancing  around  in  a  circle,  shout].  I,  I, 
1,1,1,1,1,1,1,1. 

[Bach  in  turn,  voices  ascending  the  scale  to  sol,  then  back 
from  sol.] 

Goddess.     Who  can  make  a  pumpkin-pie  ? 

[Ten  Little  Maids  look  sad,  then  each  in  turn  sighs  and 
shakes  head.] 

Goddess.     Poor  dears !    Well,  here's  a  recipe  good  and  true, 

Which  I  now  gladly  give  to  you. 
[Hands  one  of  them  a  long,  narrow  strip  of  paper,  and  an- 
other a  bell.    They  stand  in  straight  line  across  back  of  stage.] 
Goddess.     When  all  is  ready  tap  the  bell, 
And  forth  will  come,  as  in  a  spell, 
All  things  you  need;  so  do  it  well. 
[The  maid  with  bell  taps  it,  and  then  passes  bell  to  next  girl, 
Enter  Pumpkin  Runner  Boys  stage  R.    They  roll  before  them  a 
large  yellow  pumpkin.     When  near  Goddess's  throne  they  bow 
low,  and  speak.] 

Pumpkin  Runner  Boys.     We  have  come  to  represent 

At  your  call  our  pumpkin  race. 
[They  bow,  roll  pumpkin  to  stage  C,  and  step  to  one  side. 
Next  maiden  taps  bell  and  passes  it.    Enter  Egg  Maidens  stage 
R.  with  baskets  of  white  eggs.    They  bow  to  Goddess,  then  speak.] 
Egg  Maidens.     Eggs  you're  wanting.  : 

Our  white  shells 
Of  good  health 
Right  plainly  tell. 
[They  place  baskets  of  eggs  a  short  distance  from  pumpkin, 
then  move  to  one  side.    Next  girl  taps  bell.    Enter  Spice  Boys. 
They  bring  large  pans  of  spice,  bow  to  Goddess,  then  speak.] 

First  Spice  Boy.  I  am  ginger.  [Puts  pan  of  ginger  on  floor 
near  eggs.] 

Second  Spice  Boy.     I  am  cloves.    [Puts  pan  of  cloves  next.] 
All   Spice   Boys.     Don't   let   us   get   too   near   your   nose. 
[Put  down  rest  of  pans,  making  circle  about  pumpkin.] 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  27 

[They  step  to  one  side.  Next  maid  taps  bell  and  then  passes 
it.  Enter  Flour  Maidens  bearing  large  wooden  trays  of  flour. 
They  bow  to  Goddess,  then-whirling  about,  speak.] 

Flour  Maidens.     We're  the  flour,  white  and  clean, 

Don't  you  see?  [whirl]  don't  you  see?  [whirl] 
Better  you  have  never  seen, 

Don't  you   see?    [whirl  rapidly]     don't    you    see? 
[ivhirl  rapidly] . 
[They  set  flour  down,  then  step  to  one  side.    Next  maid  taps 
bell  and  passes  it,  while  Little  Milkmen  enter  bearing  broivn 
jugs  of  milk.    They  bow  to  Goddess,  then  speak.] 
Little  Milkmen.    Milk  is  very  good  to  drink, 
Which  we  can  testify, 
For  pumpkin  pie  you'll  need,  I  think 
Our  brown  jugs'  best  supply. 
[They  set  jugs  beside  flour,  then  step  to  one  side.    Maid  taps 
bell.    Enter  Sugar  Maidens  with  bowls  of  sugar.    They  bow  to 
Goddess,  then  speak.] 

Sugar  Maidens.     We  bring  forth  the  sugar  sweet ; 

Taste  of  it,  it's  good  to  eat. 
[They  set  sugar  down,  forming  a  second  circle,  and  skip  to 
one  side.  Goddess  waves  her  wand,  and  the  Ten  Little  Maids 
glide  around  the  pumpkin  and  in  and  out  among  the  other  things, 
as  if  mixing,  singing  as  they  go  chorus  to  tune  of  "  Yankee 
Doodle."] 

We  will  have  a  pumpkin  pie,  pumpkin  pie,  pumpkin  pie, 
We  will  have  a  pumpkin  pie  for  Thanksgiving  dinner. 
[Repeat  the  march  and  song  over  and  over  again  until  the  pie 
is  supposed  to  be  thoroughly  mixed.  Then  step  to  one  side  and  the 
Egg  Maidens,  Flour  Maidens,  and  Sugar  Maidens  form  a  close 
circle  about  the  things.  Then  the  Pumpkin  Runner  Boys,  Spice 
Boys,  and  Little  Milkmen  form  circle  outside  of  them.  All 
kneel,  faces  in,  and  bend  heads  toward  the  center  of  circle.  Then 
Ten  Little  Maids  separate,  advancing  from  all  sides  of  stage 
looking  over  kneeling  ones,  and  nodding  to  one  another  with  air 
of  satisfaction.'] 


28  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

One  Little;  Maid  erom  School.  Now  it's  ready  for  the 
baking. 

Another  Little  Maid  from  School.  Oh,  what  fun  there 
is  in  making-, 

All  Little  Maids  from  School.    A  good  pumpkin  pie. 

[Ten  Little  Maids  now  pass  to  position  in  front  of  God- 
dess and  kneel.] 

Goddess.     Blessings  on  you  little  Maids, 
These  materials,  and  all  aids, 
Blessings  on  your  Pumpkin  Pie. 

[Goddess  rises,  waves  zvand,  and  moves  toward  stage  R.  fol- 
lowed by  Ten  Little  Maids.  When  near  door  Goddess  waves 
wand  again  and  the  pie  materials  lift  heads,  rise  sloivly  and  glide 
off  stage  zvith  materials,  in  the  order  in  which  they  entered.] 

[curtain.] 

XIV. — Chorus  :    "  The  Thanksgiving  Turkey." 

(See  page  29.) 
II. 

We  have  much  to  be  thankful  for ;  all  will  admit  it, 

As  of  life's  varied  picture  the  bright  side  we  view, 
Though  its  dark  shadows  lingered,  and  sunshine  had  flitted, 

Though  our  trials  were  many  and  blessings  were  few, 
We  still  can  give  thanks  that  life  is  worth  living, 

That  Hope's  pointed  rays  pierce  the  clouds  that-look  dense, 
Our  conditions  we  master,  content  and  forgiving — 

Unlike  the  lean  turkey  that  roosts  on  the  fence, 

The  Thanksgiving  turkey,  the  sharp-breasted  turkey, 
The  tendon-thew'd  turkey  that  roosts  on  the  fence. 

III. 
That  proud  ancient  turkey  that  strutted  for  seasons, 

The  lord  of  the  barnyard,  orchard  and  lawn, 
Like  an  ill-fated  felon  convicted  to  Treason's 

Guillotine,  scalded,  dissected  and  drawn ; 
The  pride  that  upheld  him  until  he  grew  hoary, 

(Continued  on  page  30.) 


THANKSGIVING    CELEBRA TIONS 


29 


The  Thanksgiving  Turkey 


Jztt 


V 


T 

\> 
How  scarce,  tough  and  dear      is    the  Thanksgiv-ing  Tur  -  key,      On 
The  grav  -  y       a  -  bout      it  though  lus  -  cious  and  mur  -  ky,      Sub 

m        -*-  '         -0-        m        ■*"*        -0-        m        -*-  •  m        -*-       -*-  m  •*- 


d: 


*■ 


_£L 


-y- 


i 


— N- 


— 0 — "-J 

■*-     r. 


^1 


which  we  tbis  Pur  -  i  -  tan  hoi  -  i  -  day    fast,    ( "When  in  t  ul  -  ness 
•  lime  -  ly      re-minds  us    of  Tbanksgiv-ing  past,   j    For  tbe  year's  grate- 


-*-     -» 


of  beart  we  were  wont  to    re-mem-ber,  Our  Thanksgiving  Anthems  as 
ful  boons  to   tbe  close   of   No-vem-ber,  Unlike  tbe  poor  tur -key  that 


r      r      r      r      r      r      r      r      r        r      r      i 


:£=£ 


P 


-3- 


%    i 

some  rec  -  om-pense. 
roosts  on   tbe  fence. 


r 

{■  The  Thanksgiving  tur  -  key,  the     i   -   ron 


clad 


— n — i 


i  03      IN F r 

IS                 v 

1 F ^1 

i— v — 

— * — M 

1       II 

fe=^=i=T- 

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— *r i 0 

— H 0 0 

•   • 

— £— J— 

— 0 S— 

irH 

W~    * — * — ^^  •    3  -f-  > — * — 

tur  -  key,  The  tough-muscled     tur  -  key    that    sat 

-4.           M           .#-      -0-  •         -#-                                               -«-      -0.  * 

9         1      - 

on    the  fence. 

/«>-*   1*      7      1 

1           1        p 

•             #             p 

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T        Tl 

5^ ^ ]/ 0 

>  •    k    » - 

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H ky 1 

+-        \\ 

1 1 p 1 

Lh W —J 

H 1 ' 

H* — 

— & — v — ' 

0            *  ' 

30  THANKSGIVING   CEIEBRATIONS 

Is  humbled  to  sate  prouder  man's  abstinence. 
He  died  like  a  martyr  of  Thanksgiving  glory, 
The  colonial  gobbler  that  sat  on  the  fence — 

The  Thanksgiving  turkey,  that  toothless  old  turkey, 
That  ancient  brained  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence. 

IV. 
When  far  gathered  friends  surround  the'home  table, 

And  thanks  render  up  for  reunion  and  peace, 
They  seem  to  forget,  like  the  fox  in  the  fable, 

The  warfare  they're  making  on  Turkey  and  Grease. 
On  the  red-gilled  old  gobbler  the  pride  of  the  farm, 

With  sharp-whetted  knives  and  stout  forks  they  commence, 
To  hold  a  post-mortem  on  a  being  void  of  harm 
The  scraping  winged  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence, 
The  tough-fleshed  old  turkey,  the  onion-stuffed  turkey, 
The  flower-decked  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence. 

V. 
Dame  Nature  would  seem  to  maliciously  cozen, 

The  Thanksgiving  mortals  all  over  the  land, 
For  the  turkey,  to-day,  should  of  legs  have  a  dozen 
Or  two,  to  half  meet  the  fair  household 'demand ; 
Pope's  noses  and  wishbones  and  light-colored  pinions, 

And  bosom-cuts  few  betray  much  negligence 
In  nature  to  satisfy  Thanksgiving  minions, 
With  a  centiped  turkey  to  sit  on  each  fence, 

The  tough-hided  turkey,  the  whalebone-winged  turkey, 
The  jaw-breaking  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence. 

VI. 

No  more,  hoary  gobbler,  in  lanes  that  are  shady, 

Thou'lt  strut  in  thy  pride  where  antique  brambles  crack, 

Like  a  gent  in  store  clothes  or  a  stylish  young  lady, 
In  feathers  and  flowers  or  new  seal-skin  sacque; 

The  tuft  on  thy  bosom  lies  dormant  of  feeling, 
Thy  proud  crested  head  has  of  anguish  no  sense, 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  31 

In  parsley  and  lettuce  thy  corpse  is  revealing 

The  death-stricken  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence — 
The  zinc-plated  turkey,  the  cottonwood  turkey, 
The  tooth-tugging  turkey  that  sat  on  the  fence. 

XV. — Recitation   and    Song:      "The  Spellers."      By  Twelve 
Small  Folks, 

The  Spellers 


\Let  pupils  taking  part  stand  on  a  line,  each  provided  with  a 
large  letter  made  of  cardboard  and  covered  with  silver  paper.  As 
each  one  recites  his  couplet  let  him  hold  his  letter  before  him  so 
that  audience  may  see  it;  then  lower  it  again  out  of  sight  until  all 
recite  the  last  stanza;  then  all  raise  letters  together,  making  the 
word  "THANKSGIVING."] 

First  Pupil.         T  stands  for  Thank  you,  the  word  that  we  say 
When  we  remember  this  Thanksgiving  day. 
Chorus  oE  Children.     [Tune:  "Yankee  Doodle."] 
The  turkey  brown  has  come  to  town 

And  all  he  says  is  Gobble. 
He  struts  around  with  wings  well  down 

And  all  the  while  sings  Gobble. 

Strut  and  pose  and  step  and  prance 

And,  if  you  must,  sing  Gobble. 

Second  Pupil.         H  is  for  Happy,  the  way  that  we  feel 

Just  before  eating  our  Thanksgiving  meal. 

Chorus  oe  Children  \_same  as  before] . 

Third  Pupil.  A  stands  for  All,  all  our  family  dear 

Whom  we  like  with  us  to  help  make  good 
cheer. 
Chorus  oe  Children  \_same  as  before] . 
Fourth  Pupil.       N  for  November — the  sky  may  be  gray, 

Yet  we  are  glad  and  our  spirits  are  gay. 
Chorus  oe  Children  \same  as  before]. 


32  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Fifth  Pupil.         K  is  for  Kindness,  and  if  we  are  good, 

Those  who  are  poor  shall  have  some  of  ou 
food. 

Chorus  of  Children  [same  as  before]. 

Sixth  Pupil.  S  is  the  Season  for  pudding  and  pie, 

Turkey  and  dressing  and  gravy — oh,  my ! 

Chorus  of  Children  [same  as  before]. 

Seventh  Fupil.     G  is  for  Gobbler,  our  national  bird, 

When  he  is  dressed  he  says  never  a  word. 

Chorus  op  Children  [same  as  before]. 
Eighth  Pupil.       I  stands  for  111,  which  we  surely  shall  be 
If  we  eat  greedily  of  all  that  we  see. 

Chorus  oe  Children  [same  as  before]. 

Ninth  Pupil.         V  stands  for  Vain,  like  the  gobbler  we  see — 
All  right  for  turkeys,  but  not  you  or  me. 

Chorus  of  Children  [same  as  before]. 

Tenth  Pupil.        I  is  for  111,  as  you  just  have  been  told. 

Health  is  worth  far  more  than  silver  an 
gold. 

Chorus  of  Children  [same  as'before]. 

Eleventh  Pupil.  N  stands  for  Nuts,  hazel — hickory — wal — 

Beech — chest — and    butter — we    love    on 
and  all. 
Chorus  of  Children  [same  as  before]. 
Twelfth  Pupil.    G  is  for  Give.    If  we  freely  receive 

So  let  us  freely  and  willingly  give. 
Chorus  of  Children  [same  as  before]. 

All     [holding  up  cards]. 

Thanksgiving,   thanksgiving,   thanksgiving, 

So  each  and  all  of  us  call ! 
For  the  many  good  gifts  that  are  ours 
From  God,  the  giver  of  all. 


PART  n. 

Thanksgiving  Program 


Program 

PART  II. 


Page 

I.— CHORUS:  "Thanksgiving  for  Harvest"         ....        35 

II. — READING:  President's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation     .        .        35 

III.-CHORUS:  "Thanksgiving" 36 

IV.— DIALOGUE:  "Joseph's  Story" 36 

V.— RECITATION:  "In  Football  Times" 44 

VI.— DUMB-BELL  DRILL 47 

VII.— READING :  "  Ichabod  Crane  at  Heer  van  Tassel's  Dinner  Party"  48 

VIII.— PIANO  SOLO 49 

IX.— PANTOMIME:  "The  Witch's  Daughter"     ....        49 
X.— CHORUS:  Doxology 66 


34 


PART  n. 

Thanksgiving  Program 


Arranged  by  HARRIET  C.  WATERHOUSE 


I. — Chorus:    "Thanksgiving  for  Harvest." 

Thanksgiving  for  Harvest 


Moderalo. 


¥f 


1 


1   The      har  •  vest  is       in  J     The 
2.  For       all       the  good  things  The 


_  1 

1 — 

1 — 

S-. 

eel 
rich 

•— * — i-     i    tl . 

♦    -••-•■    *. 

lar1  and     bin       Are   stored 
Autumn  brings, For      all 

. 1. 

■*•-#■      •*- 

with  the  fruits   of      the 
that  the    har  -  vest    can 

— i*-n 

ait 

earth; 
show. 

— £=1 

IT 

So 
Most 

*— 

*  -,  i       -Hb 

— 4    \      .-+■ 

■i         * 

L1K — „H- 

:  JJ 

T—*- 


^— -i sqH — -j— - =  dEzzizz^z,  --ix^=*l4_U 


let     us     be    gay     On  Thanksgiving  Day.  And  keep     it  with  feasting  and     mirth, 
thankful  we'll  be.  Dear  Fa  -  ther,  to  Thee,  Whose  pow-er  and  love  made  them  grow. 


m± 


-A-4 


■——  4z=t 


*-^r 


II. — R^ad-ing  :  President's  Thanksgiving  Proclamation. 

(Use  either  the  proclamation  given  on  page  19  of  this  book  or  the  proclamation  of  the 
President  in  office.) 


36  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

III. — Chorus :    "Thanksgiving" 


Thanksgiving 


j^TTT^" 


ivT 


SSI 


1.  Praise    to      God       im    •    mor  -  tal  praise,  For      the      love       that     orowns  our  days! 

2.  For      the     bless  -  ings      of       the     field,  For      the     fruits     the      gar  -    dens  yield, 

■& 73 &i—l *> «> SI     ■    ! » 1 &- 


^E 


SS^E 


3^ 


/phi. — j 1 H — ■ — i— 

1 ...    J   -      1 

—I—, 

1            +- 

■X-tfz?— A cj ] jjr- 

— | 1 j — zsj "j ^— 

-J — 

— * 2* H 

Boun-teous    source     of 
For      the         joy    whiol 

ftVjr-U  U * e>- — tfc- 

ev  -  'ry         joy, 
har  -  vesta    bring, 

Let      thy    praise 
Grate-ful      prais  - 

r-<S> <s> n  . 

our 

es 

— * 

tongues  em  -  ploy  1 
now         we    sing. 

pfe1'  r    r^    i     ¥^ 

~| <s> 

-1 )v 12-5— 

/O             f             1 

=fc= 

— 1» f- w-H 

\          i           i 

1      1 

1 

3  All  that  spring  with  bounteous  hand 
Scatters  o'er  the  smiling  land ; 
All  that  liberal  autumn  pours 
From  her  rich  o'erflowing  stores  j 


4  Lord,  for  these  our  souls  shall  raise 
Grateful  vows,  and  solemn  praise : 
And  when  every  blessing's  flovro, 
Love  Thee  for  Thyself  alone. 


IV. — Dialogue  :  "Joseph's  Story.' 


Joseph's  Story 


By  J.  G.  Holland 


[From  "Bitter  Sweet"] 


Characters  : 


Ruth.     A  girl  dressed  as  a  woman. 

Joseph.  A  large,  clumsy  boy,  but  one  with  some  dramatic 
ability. 

Samuel.     A  boy  of  about  12  years. 

Rebekah.     A  girl  of  about  14  years. 

Three  or  four  smaller  children. 

Scene  :  A  New  England  kitchen.  A  fireplace ;  an  old-fash- 
ioned clock;  a  table  on  which  are  apples,  jug  of  cider  and  glass; 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  37 

two  or  three  wooden-bottomed  chairs ;  dried  apples  strung  across 
the  ceiling ;  bunches  of  dried  herbs  and  corn  hung  in  corners. 

When  the  curtain  is  raised  the  children  are  seated  in  a  semi- 
circle playing  "Button-Button."  Joseph  is  hunting  the  button  and 
the  others  are  playing  tricks  on  him.  Some  one  pulls  his  coat, 
some  one  gets  in  his  way,  and  finally  some  one  trips  him  up. 
Joseph  falls  and  as  he  rises  rubs  his  nose  and  says  : 

Joseph.     Have  we  not  had  "Button-Button"  enough, 
And  "Forfeits,"  and  all  such  silly  stuff? 

[He  takes  the  handkerchief  from  his  eyes.] 

Samuel.     Well,  we  were  playing  "Blind-Man's  Buff" 
Until  you  fell,  and  rose  in  a  huff, 
And  declared  the  game  was  too  rude  and  rough, 
Poor  boy!     [Holds  his  sides  and  laughs.]     What  a 
pity  he  isn't  tough ! 

All  [laughing  and  making  fun  of  Joseph]. 
Ha !  ha !  ha !  what  a  pretty  boy ! 
Papa's  delight,  and  mamma's  joy! 
Wouldn't  he  like  to  go  to  bed, 
And  have  a  cabbage-leaf  on  his  head? 

Jos.  [pouting] .     Laugh,  if  you  like  to !    Laugh  till  you're  gray ! 
But  I  guess  you'd  laugh  another  way 
If  you'd  hit  your  toe  [holds  up  foot  and  rubs  it]  and 

fallen  like  me, 
And  cut  a  bloody  gash  in  your  knee, 
And  bumped  your  nose  and  bruised  your  shin, 
Tumbling  over  the  rolling-pin 
\  That  rolled  to  the  floor  in  the  awful  din 
That  followed  the  fall  of  the  row  of  tin 
That  stood  on  the  dresser. 

[He  rubs  each  spot  as  he  speaks  of  his  hurts.  The  others 
laugh,  some  holding  their  sides,  some  pointing  a  finger  at  him, 
except  Rebekah,  zvho  first  laughs,  then,  seeing  the  boy  is  ready  to 
cry,  shakes  her  head  at  the  others.] 


38  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Sam.  Guess  again,  dear  little  guesser ! 

You  wouldn't  catch  this  boy  lopping  his  wing, 
Or  whining  over  anything. 
So  stir  your  stumps, 
Forget  your  bumps, 
Get  out  of  your  dumps  [shakes  him] 
And  up  and  at  it  again ; 
For  the  clock  is  striking  ten, 
And  Ruth  will  come  pretty  soon  and  say, 
[Imitating  a  woman]  "Go  to  your  beds 
You  sleepy  heads!" 
So — quick !    What  shall  we  play  ? 
[Catches  Joseph  and  holds  his  hands  behind  him.] 

Rebekah  [seeing  Joseph  is  about  to  cry]. 

.  I  wouldn't  play  any  more, 

For  Joseph  is  tired  and  sore 

With  his  fall  upon  the  floor. 
All  [jumping  up].    Then  he  must  tell  a  story. 
Jos.  [laughing].    About  old  Mother  Morey? 
All  [laughing;  some  stamp  their  feet].     No!     Tell  us  another. 
Jos.     About  my  brother?     [Makes  a  face.] 
Reb.  [going  up  to  him] .     Now,  Joseph,  you  shall  be  good, 

And  do  as  you'd  be  done  by; 

We  didn't  mean  to  be  rude 

When  you  fell  and  began  to  cry; 

We  wanted  you  to  forget  your  pain; 

But  it  frets  you,  and  we'll  not  laugh  again. 

Jos.  [pacified].     Well,  if  you'll  all  sit  still, 

And  not  be  frisking  about  [shakes  his  head  at  them] 

Nor  utter  a  whisper  till  [shakes  his  finger] 

You've  heard  my  story  out, 

I'll  tell  you  a  tale  as  weird 

As  ever  you  heard  in  your  lives, 

Of  a  man  with  a  long  blue  beard, 

And  the  way  he  treated  his  wives. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  39 

All  [clapping  hands].    Oh,  that  will  be  nice! 
We'll  be  still  as  mice. 

[All  sit  down,  some  on  the  floor,  Joseph  in  the  center.'] 

Jos.  Centuries  since,  there  flourished  a  man, 

(A  cruel  old  Tartar  as  rich  as  the  Khan,) 
Whose  castle  was  built  on  a  splendid  plan, 

With  gardens  and  groves  and  plantations ! 
But  his  shaggy  beard  was  as  blue  as  the  sky, 
And  he  lived  alone,  for  his  neighbors  were  shy, 
And  had  heard  hard  stories,  by  the  by, 

About  his  domestic  relations. 

Just  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plain 

A  widow  abode,  with  her  daughters  twain ! 

And  one  of  them — neither  cross  nor  vain — 

Was  a  beautiful  little  treasure; 
So  he  sent  them  an  invitation  to  tea, 
And  having  a  natural  wish  to  see 
His  wonderful  castle  and  gardens,  all  three 

Said  they'd  do  themselves  the  pleasure. 

As  soon  as  there  happened  a  pleasant  day, 
They  dressed  themselves  in  a  sumptuous  way, 
And  rode  to  the  castle  as  proud  and  gay 

As  silks  and  jewels  could  make  them; 
And  they  were  received  in  the  finest  style, 
And  saw  everything  that  was  worth  their  while 
In  the  halls  of  Blue  Beard's  grand  old  pile, 

Where  he  was  so  kind  as  to  take  them. 

The  ladies  were  all  enchanted  quite ; 
For  they  found  Blue  Beard  so  polite 
That  they  did  not  suffer  at  all  from  fright, 
And  frequently  called  thereafter; 


40  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Then  he  offered  to  marry  the  younger  one, 
And  as  she  was  willing,  the  thing  was  done, 
And  celebrated  by  all  the  ton 

With  feasting  and  with  laughter. 

As  kind  a  husband  as  ever  was  seen 

Was  Blue  Beard  then,  for  a  month  I  ween; 

And  she  was  as  proud  as  any  queen, 

And  as  happy  as  she  could  be,  too; 
But  her  husband  called  her  to  him  one  day, 
And  said,  "My  dear,  I  am  going  away; 
It  will  not  be  long  that  I  shall  stay ; 

There  is  business  for  me  to  see  to. 

"The  keys  of  my  castle  I  leave  with  you ; 

But  if  you  value  my  love,  be  true, 

And  forbear  to  enter  the  Chamber  of  Blue! 

Farewell,    Fatima  !      Remember !" 
Fatima  promised  him :  then  she  ran 
To  visit  the  rooms  with  her  sister  Ann ; 
But  when  she  had  finished  the  tour,  she  began 

To  think  about  the  Blue  Chamber. 

Well,  the  woman  was  curiously  inclined, 
So  she  left  her  sister  and  prudence  behind. 
(With  a  little  excuse)  and  started  to  find 

The  mystery  forbidden. 
She  paused  at  the  door: — all  was  still  as  night! 
She  opened  it ;  then  thro'  the  dim  blue  light 
There  blistered  her  vision  the  horrible  sight 

That  was  in  that  chamber  hidden.   ■ 

The  room  was  gloomy  and  damp  and  wide, 
And  the  floor  was  red  with  the  bloody  tide 
From  headless  women,  laid  side  by  side,  K 

The  wives  of  her  dear  lord  and  master! 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  41 

Frightened  and  fainting,  she  dropped  the  key, 
But  seized  it  and  lifted  it  quickly;  then  she 
Hurried  as  swiftly  as  she  could  flee 
From  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

She  tried  to  forget  the  terrible  dead, 

But  shrieked  when  she  saw  that  the  key  was  red. 

And  sickened  and  shook  with  an  awful  dread 

When  she  heard  Blue  Beard  was  coming. 
He  did  not  appear  to  notice  her  pain ; 
But  he  took  his  keys,  and  seeing  the  stain, 
He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  refrain 

That  he  had  been  quietly  humming. 

"Mighty  well,  madam!"  said  he,  "mighty  well! 
What  does  this  little  blood-stain  tell?  „ 
You've  broken  your  promise !  prepare  to  dwell 

With  the  wives  I've  had  before  you ! 
You've  broken  your  promise,  and  you  shall  die." 
Then  Fatima,  supposing  her  death  was  nigh, 
Fell  on  her  knees  and  began  to  cry, 

"Have  mercy,  I  implore  you !" 

"No !"  shouted  Blue  Beard,  drawing  his  sword ; 
"You  shall  die  this  very  minute,"  he  roared. 
"Grant  me  time  to  prepare  to  meet  my  Lord," 

The  terrified  woman  entreated. 
"Only  ten  minutes,"   he   roared  again; 
And  holding  his  watch  by  its  great  gold  chain, 
He  marked  on  the  dial  the  fatal  ten, 

And  retired  till  they  were  completed. 

"Sister,  oh,  sister,  fly  up  to  the  tower! 
Look  for  release  from  this  murderer's  power! 
Our  brothers  should  be  here  this  very  hour:—* 
Speak !    Does  there  come  assistance  ?" 


42  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

"No :  I  see  nothing  but  sheep  on  the  hill." 

"Look  again,  sister!"     "I'm  looking  still, 

But  naught  can  I  see,  whether  good  or  ill, 

Save  a  flurry  of  dust  in  the  distance." 

"Time's  up !"  shouted  Blue  Beard  out  from  his  room. 
"This  moment  shall  witness  your  terrible  doom, 
And  give  you  a  dwelling  within  the  room 

Whose  secrets  you  have  invaded." 
"Comes  there  no  help  for  my  terrible  need?" 
"There  are  horsemen  twain  riding  hither  with  speed." 
"Oh !  tell  them  to  ride  very  fast  indeed, 

Or  I  must  meet  death  unaided." 

"Time's  fully  up !    Now  have  done  with  your  prayers," 
Shouted  Blue  Beard,  swinging  his  sword  on  the  stair; 
Then  he  entered,  and  grasping  her  beautiful  hair, 

Swung  his  glittering  weapon  around  him; 
But  a  loud  knock  rang  at  the  castle  gate, 
And  Fatima  was  saved  from  her  horrible  fate. 
For,  shocked  with  surprise,  he  paused  too  late; 

And  then  the  two  soldiers  found  him. 

They  were  her  brothers,  and,  quick  as  they  knew 
What  the  fiend  was  doing,  their  swords  they  drew, 
And  attacked  him  fiercely,  and  ran  him  thro', 

So  that  soon  he  was  mortally  wounded. 
With  a  wild  remorse  was  his  conscience  filled 
When  he  thought  of  the  hapless  wives  he  had  killed ; 
But  quickly  the  last  of  his  blood  was  spilled, 

And  his  dying  groan  was  sounded. 

[Joseph  is  seated  at  the  beginning  of  the  story,  and  talks  to 
those  around  him.  When  he  says,  "My  dear,  I  am  going  away," 
etc.,  he  rises;  and  as  he  proceeds  he  speaks  to  the  audience,  enter- 
ing into  the  story  dramatically.  As  he  closes  Ruth  enters  unper- 
ceived,  for  the  others  are  applauding  Joseph.] 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  43 

Sam.     Capital !  capital !    Wasn't  it  good ! 

I  should  like  to  have  been  her  brother : 
If  I  had  been  one,  you  may  guess  there  would 
Have  been  little  work  for  the  other. 
I'd  have  run  him  right  thro'  the  heart,  just  so   [illus- 
trates] , 
And  cut  off  his  head  at  a  single  blow, 
And  killed  him  so  quickly  he'd  never  know 
What  it  was  that  struck  him,  wouldn't  I,  Joe? 

Jos.     You  are  very  brave  with  your  bragging  tongue, 
But  if  you  had  been  there,  you'd  have  sung 

A  very  different  tune. 
Poor  Blue  Beard !    He  would  have  been  afraid 
Of  a  little  boy  with  a  penknife  blade, 

Or  a  tiny  pewter  spoon ! 

Sam.  It  makes  no  difference  what  you  say, 
(Pretty  little  boy,  afraid  to  play!) 
But  it  served  him  rightly  any  way, 

And  gave  him  just  his  due. 
And  wasn't  it  good  that  his  little  wife 
Should  live  in  his  castle  the  rest  of  her  life, 

And  have  all  his  money,  too? 

Reb.     I'm  thinking  of  the  ladies  who 

Were  lying  in  the  Chamber  Blue, 
With  all  their  small  necks  cut  in  two. 
I  know  the  sweet  Fatima  would 
Have  put  their  heads  on  if  she  could ; 
And  made  them  live — she  was  so  good! 
And  washed  their  faces  at  the  si  ,_" 
But  Blue  Beard  was  not  sane,  I  think: 
I  wonder  if  he  did  not  drink! 
For  no  man  in  his  proper  mind 
Would  be  so  cruelly  inclined 
As  to  kill  ladies  who  were  kind. 


44  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Ruth  [who  has  been  shaking  her  head  in  disapproval,  comes  for- 
ward'] . 

Story  and  comment  alike  are  bad: 
These  little  fellows  are  raving  mad 

With  thinking  what  they  would  do, 
Supposing  their  sunny-eyed  sister  had 
Given  her  heart — and  her  head — to  a  lad  ,  - 

Like  the  man  with  the  Beard  of  Blue. 
So  let  us  have  done  with  our  talk : 
For  they  are  too  tired  to  say  their  prayers, 
And  the  time  is  come  they  should  walk 
From  the  story  below  to  the  story  upstairs. 
[Takes  one  of  the  little  ones  by  the  hand.    All  walk  off.] 

V. — Recitation  :     "In  Football  Times." 

In  Football  Times 


By  Kathleen  Carman. 


As  Thanksgiving  Day  drew  near,  student  interest  centered 
itself  ardently  in  the  final  championship  game  of  the  season,  which 
was  to  take  place  on  that  date.  The  'Varsity  was  to  play  its  bit- 
terest rival,  and  hopes,  fears,  predictions,  and — bets,  were  ex- 
changed freely. 

But  when  the  crucial  day  arrived,  the  hopes  of  one,  at  least, 
seemed  doomed  to  disappointment.  Gordon  had  hurt  his  knee  and, 
spite  of  arguments  and  prayers  and  passionate  supplications,  was 
forbidden  to  play.  The  sub  quarter-back  was  to  take  his  place 
and  the  only  thing  that  saved  Gordon  from  suicidal  despair  was 
the  hope  that  his  understudy  would  be  unable  to  "stand  the  pace." 

"And  in  that  case,  Gordie,  old  man,"  said  the  alert  and  cheer- 
ful trainer,  "I  expect  you'll  have  to  go  in,  knee  or  no  knee." 

By  two  o'clock  the  interested  sun  was  beaming  down  upon  a 
gorgeous  and  inspiring  sight.  The  great  athletic  field  was  swarm- 
ing with  an  excited  and  hilarious  crowd.  In  banners,  streamers, 
fluttering  ribbons,  the  red  of  the  visitors  vied  with  the  'Varsity 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  45 

blue ;  while  the  omnipresent  tin  horn,  the  terrible  ''devil's  rattle" 
and  the  'Varsity  yell  combined  in  a  nerve-reaching,  blood-quick- 
ening clamor. 

A  burst  of  noise,  louder  and  more  prolonged  than  usual  from 
first  one  and  then  the  other  of  the  rival  factions,  greeted  their 
respective  teams  as  they  came  trotting  out  upon  the  field. 

Gordon,  from  his  ignominious  place  at  the  side-line,  watched 
the  preliminary  prancings  of  his  mates  with  an  admiration  in 
which  envy  had  its  share. 

Then  came  the  kick-off,  and  from  that  moment  Kent  and 
Gordon  thought  only  of  the  play. 

When  the  umpire  blew  his  whistle  for  the  end  of  the  first  half, 
the  wearers  of  the  blue  took  one  long  breath,  and  then  broke  forth 
into  such  a  pandemonium  of  joy  as  only  a  football  crowd  can 
make,  for  the  score  stood  six  to  nothing,  and  it  was  Kent  who 
had  been  pushed  over  for  the  touch-down. 

But  by  the  end  of  the  first  fifteen  minutes  after  the  second 
half  had  begun,  the  red-clad  arms  and  legs  had  done  such  good 
service  that  the  ball  was  far  into  the  home  territory  and  after  a 
brief  and  hopeless  rally  on  the  part  of  the  blues,  the  score  was  tied. 

Though  momentarily  stunned  by  this  painful  surprise,  the 
backers  of  the  blue  promptly  rallied,  and  under  enthusiastic  lead- 
ership, sent  their  various  yells  racketing  through  space.  In  spite 
of  all,  however,  it  was  evident  that  something  was  wrong,  for  the 
ball  was  slowly  but  steadily  creeping  down  the  field  again  towanj 
the  home  team's  goal.  The  thirty-yard  line  is  passed,  the  twenty^ 
five,  the  twenty.    Ye  gods  !    Shall  this  thing  be  ? 

From  the  east  side  of  the  field,  where  is  the  stronghold  of 
the  red-bedecked  ones,  comes  a  mighty  and  increasing  howl  of 
joy.  Already  they  feel  the  flush  of  victory.  Too  soon,  my 
friends,  too  soon. 

From  west  and  south  and  north  there  comes  an  answering 
shout  whose  sturdy,  sullen,  rhythmic  pulse  steadies  the  nerves  and 
steels  the  muscles  of  the  eleven  men  for  whom  it  is  meant. 

"Hold  'em !    Hold  'em !    Hold  'em !" 

And  backed  by  that  wall  of  sound,  ten  yards  from  their  own 


46  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

goal-line,  the  wearers  of  the  blue  make  their  last  stand.  Vainly 
the  opposing  line  hurls  itself  against  them.  Neither  through  the 
center  nor  round  the  end  can  they  go. 

"Third  down,"  says  the  umpire,  and  to  the  accompaniment  of 
a  din  that  might  daunt  the  Sphinx,  the  ball  goes  over. 

But  the  goal  behind  which  its  holder  would  fain  see  it  put  is 
very,  very  far  away,  and  those  red-clad  arms  and  legs  are  terribly 
strong  and  agile. 

Young  Gordon  kneeling  at  the  side-line,  trembling  from  head 
to  foot  like  a  setter  come  to  point,  sobbing  now  and  then  from 
sheer  excitement,  prays  without  pause  for  one  chance,  just  one, 
against  that  line  up. 

The  ball  is  given  to  the  heavy  half-back.  Atkins  and  the  for- 
wards endeavor  to  make  a  hole  for  him.     One  down,  no  gain. 

The  ball  is  given  to  Kent  for  a  try  round  the  end,  but  one  of 
his  opponents  breaks  through  and  tackles  him  behind  the  line. 

Two  downs,  no  gain. 

And  then  from  the  ranks  of  the  faithful  goes  up  one  last  de- 
spairing groan,  for  one  of  the  blue-clad  warriors  is  stretched  out 
unconscious  on  the  ground.  It  is  the  sub-quarter  who  has  given 
out  at  last,  having  done  his  plucky  best.  With  one  twist,  Gordon 
has  freed  himself  from  his  ulster  and,  as  he  runs  out  to  his  own 
place,  a  cheer  of  vigorous  enthusiasm  goes  after  him.  He  does  not 
hear  it,  he  hears  nothing  but  his  captain's  voice  at  his  ear  in 
quick  and  brief  command. 

Gordon  has  a  dim  sense  that  it  is  the  happiest  moment  of  his 
life.  He  is  not  at  all  nervous  and  he  has  forgotten  his  knee.  He 
gives  the  signals  in  a  loud,  clear  voice,  catches  the  ball  from  cen- 
ter, passes  it  to  Kent  with  the  speed  of  lightning,  and  hurls  him- 
self into  the  play.  The  interference  is  slow  in  forming  and  Kent 
s  outrunning  it.  Gordon  sees  this  in  a  flash,  blocks  one  man, 
ees  two  others  that  he  must  choose  between ;  chooses,  checks  his 
nan,  and  has  a  glimpse  of  Kent's  dark,  straining  face  flying  past 
lim  as  he  falls.  By  the  time  he  is  on  his  feet  again,  Kent  is  half 
way  down  the  field,  waving  a  mocking  farewell  to  his  outdistanced 
pursuers,  while  the  frantic  crowd,  breaking  past  the  ropes,  scarce- 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  47 

ly  gives  him  time  to  make  his  touch-down  before  they  surround 
him. 

By  somewhat  forceful  persuasion  they  cleared  a  space  for  the 
captain  to  kick  his  easy  goal,  while  gray-headed  professors  waltzed 
about  with  all  the  joyous  abandon  of  freshmen,  and  the  "roosters" 
strained  their  hoarse  voices  to  the  highest  pitch  of  endurance. 

The  visitors  yielded  the  few  seconds  of  play  that  remained, 
and  the  victorious  team,  physically  sore  and  weary,  but  with  their 
souls  lapped  in  unutterable  contentment,  was  borne  triumphantly 
from  the  field." 

VI. — Dumb-Beel  Drile. 

Dumb-Bell  Drill 


[Have  eight  pupils,  or  more  if  the  platform  will  allow,  take 
this  drill.  They  may  be  all  boys,  or  all  girls,  or,  one  row  of  boys 
and  one  row  of  girls.  If  the  pupils  can  dress  alike  it  will  add 
much  to  the  looks  of  the  drill. 

A  good  march  is  necessary,  with  the  time  distinctly  marked. 
Have  the  class  march  on,  taking  these  positions : 


with  bells  held  in  hands  and  at  the  sides  of  bodies.] 

First  Movement  :  Salute.  Raise  right  arm  diagonally  out, 
count  one ;  bring  bell  to  forehead,  over  the  eyes,  count  two ;  diago- 
nally out,  count  three ;  lower  to  side,  count  four. 

Second  Movement  :  Raise  right  arm,  directly  front,  shoul- 
der-high, four  times,  count  one  with  each  movement.  Same  with 
left 54x4  counts.  Alternate 54x8  counts.  Both ;  4x4  counts. 
On  the  fourth  count  bring  bells  to  chest,  curved  arms,  bells  held 
horizontally  ready  for  next  movement. 

Third  Movement:  Swing  right  arm  up  and  around  to 
shoulder-high  54x4  counts.  Same  with  left  54x4  counts.  Alter- 
nate 54x8  counts.  Both  54x4  counts.  On  fourth  count  lower 
arms  to  sides,  face  of  hand  from  body. 

Fourth  Movement:  Swing  right  arm  out,  from  side  to 
full  length  over  head ;  4  x  2  counts  to  each  swing.    Same  to  left ; 


48  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

4x2  counts  to  each  swing.    Alternate ;  raise  one  arm  while  the 
other  is  falling.    Both ;  striking  bells  on  each  second  count. 

Fifth  Movement  :  Bells  from  sides  to  shoulders ;  count 
one ;  count  two ;  charge  with  right  foot  diagonally  forward ;  right 
arm  raised  in  line  of  left  leg ;  right  knee  bent  and  bearing  weight ; 
left  hand  about  six  inches  from  left  leg ;  eyes  to  upper  lobe  of  bell. 
Hold  this  position  through  count  seven ;  on  eighth  count  assume 
military  position.  Same  to  left.  Same  to  side;  first  right,  then 
left.    Same  diagonally  back  to  right ;  then  to  left. 


VII. — Reading:     "Ichabod  Crane  at  Heer  van  Tassel's  Dinner 
Party." 


Ichabod  Crane  at  Heer  van  Tassel's  Dinner  Party 


By  Washington  Irving. 


[From  "  Sketch  Book."] 

It  was  toward  evening  when  Ichabod  arrived  at  the  castle  of 
the  Heer  van  Tassel,  which  he  found  thronged  with  the  pride  and 
flower  of  the  adjacent  country.  Fain  would  I  pause  to  dwell 
upon  the  world  of  charms  that  burst  upon  the  enraptured  gaze  of 
my  hero,  as  he  entered  the  state  parlor  of  Van  Tassel's  mansion. 
Not  those  of  the  bevy  of  buxom  lasses,  with  their  luxurious  dis- 
play of  red  and  white ;  but  the  ample  charms  of  a  genuine  Dutch 
country  tea-table,  in  the  sumptuous  time  of  autumn.  Such  heaped- 
up  platters  of  cakes  of  various  and  almost  indescribable  kinds, 
known  only  to  experienced  Dutch  housewives !  There  was  the 
doughty  doughnut,  the  tenderer  oly  koek,  and  the  crisp  and  crum- 
bling cruller;  sweet  cakes  and  short  cakes,  ginger-cakes  and 
honey-cakes,  and  the  whole  family  of  cakes.  And  then  there  were 
apple  pies  and  peach  pies  and  pumpkin  pies ;  besides  slices  of  ham 
and  smoked  beef;  and  moreover  delectable  dishes  of  preserved 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  49 

plums,  and  peaches,  and  pears  and  quinces ;  not  to  mention  broiled 
shad  and  roasted  chickens ;  together  with  bowls  of  milk  and  cream, 
all  mingled  higgledy-piggledy,  pretty  much  as  I  have  enumerated 
them,  with  the  motherly  tea-pot  sending  up  its  clouds  of  vapor 
from  the  midst — Heaven  bless  the  mark !  I  want  breath  and  time 
to  discuss  this  banquet  as  it  deserves,  and  am  too  eager  to  get  on 
with  my  story.  Happily,  Ichabod  Crane  was  not  in  so  great  a 
hurry  as  his  historian,  but  did  ample  justice  to  every  dainty. 

And  now  the  sound  of  the  music  from  the  common  room, 
or  hall,  summoned  to  the  dance.  The  musician  was  an  old,  gray- 
headed  negro,  who  had  been  the  itinerant  orchestra  of  the  neigh- 
borhood for  more  than  half  a  century.  His  instrument  was  as 
old  and  battered  as  himself.  The  greater  part  of  the  time  he 
scraped  on  two  or  three  strings,  accompanying  every  movement  of 
the  bow  with  a  motion  of  the  head ;  bowing  almost  to  the  ground 
and  stamping  with  his  foot  whenever  a  fresh  couple  were  to  start. 

Ichabod  prided  himself  upon  his  dancing  as  much  as  upon  his 
vocal  powers.  Not  a  limb,  not  a  fibre  about  him  was  idle ;  and  to 
have  seen  his  loosely  hung  frame  in  full  motion,  and  clattering 
about  the  room,  you  would  have  thought  Saint  Vitus  himself,  that 
blessed  patron  of  the  dance,  was  figuring  before  you  in  person. 
He  was  the  admiration  of  all  the  negroes ;  who,  having  gathered, 
of  all  ages  and  sizes,  from  the  farm  and  the  neighborhood,  stood 
forming  a  pyramid  of  shining  black  faces  at  every  door  and 
window,  gazing  with  delight  at  the  scene,  rolling  their  white  eye- 
balls, and  showing  grinning  rows  of  ivory  from  ear  to  ear.  How 
could  the  flogger  of  urchins  be  otherwise  than  animated  and 
joyous?  The  lady  of  his  heart  was  his  partner  in  the  dance,  and 
smiling  graciously  in  reply  to  all  his  amorous  oglings ;  while  Brom 
Bones,  sorely  smitten  with  love  and  jealousy,  sat  brooding  by 
himself  in  one  corner. 


VIII.— Piano  Soto. 

IX. — Pantomime:     "The  Witch's  Daughter. 


50  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  Witch's  Daughter 

("Mabel  Martin") 


By  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 


[Abridged  as  shown  by  the  stanza  numbers.] 
I, 

It  was  the  pleasant  harvest  time, 

When  cellar-bins  are  closely  stowed, 
And  garrets  bend  beneath  their  load; — 

5- 
On  Esek  Harden's  oaken  floor, 

With  many  an  autumn  threshing  worn, 
Lay  the  heaped  ears  of  unhusked  corn. 

6. 
And  thither  came  young  men  and  maids, 
Beneath  a  moon  that,  large  and  low, 
Lit  that  sweet  eve  of  long  ago. 

7- 
They  took  their  places ;  some  by  chance, 
And  others  by  a  merry  voice 
Or  sweet  smile  guided  to  their  choice. 

8. 
How  pleasantly  the  rising  moon, 

Between  the  shadows  of  the  mows, 

Looked  on  them  through  the  great  elm-boughs  !- 

9- 
On  sturdy  boyhood  sun-embrowned, 
On  girlhood  with  its  solid  curves 
Of  healthful  strength  and  painless  nerves ! 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  61 

13- 

But  still  the  sweetest  voice  was  mute 
That  river-valley  ever  heard 
From  lip  of  maid  or  throat  of  bird ; 

14. 
For  Mabel  Martin  sat  apart, 

And  let  the  hay-mow's  shadow  fall 
Upon  the  loveliest  face  of  all. 

I 

15; 

She  sat  apart,  as  one  forbid, 

Who  knew  that  none  would  condescend 
To  own  the  Witch-wife's  child  a  friend. 

16. 
The  seasons  scarce  had  gone  their  round, 
Since  curious  thousands  thronged  to  see 
Her  mother  on  the  gallows-tree ; 

17- 

And  mocked  the  palsied  limbs  of  age, 
That  faltered  on  the  fatal  stairs, 
And  wan  lip  trembling  with  its  prayers! 

18. 
Few  questioned  of  the  sorrowing  child, 
Or,  when  they  saw  the  mother  die, 
Dreamed  of  the  daughter's  agony. 

19. 
They  went  up  to  their  homes  that  day, 
As  men  and  Christians  justified: 
God  willed  it,  and  the  wretch  had  diedl 

25- 
The  school-boys  jeered  her  as  they  passed, 
And,  when  she  sought  the  house  of  prayer 
Her  mother's  curse  pursued  her  there. 


52  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

26. 
And  still  o'er  many  a  neighboring  door 
She  saw  the  horseshoe's  curved  charm, 
To  guard  against  her  mother's  harm. 

31- 

So  in  the  shadow  Mabel  sits; 

Untouched  by  mirth  she  sees  and  hears, 
Her  smile  is  sadder  than  her  tears. 

32- 
But  cruel  eyes  have  found  her  out, 
And  cruel  lips  repeat  her  name, 
And  taunt  her  with  her  mother's  shame. 

33- 

She  answered  not  with  railing  words, 
But  drew  her  apron  o'er  her  face, 
And,  sobbing,  glided  from  the  place. 

34- 
And  only  pausing  at  the  door, 

Her  sad  eyes  met  the  troubled  gaze 
Of  one  who,  in  her  better  days, 

35- 
Had  been  her  warm  and  steady  friend, 
Ere  yet  her  mother's  doom  had  made 
Even  Esek  Harden  half  afraid. 

36. 
He  felt  that  mute  appeal  of  tears, 

And,  starting  with  an  angry  frown, 
Hushed  all  the  wicked  murmurs  down. 

37- 
"Good  neighbors  mine,"  he  sternly  said, 
"This  passes  harmless  mirth  or  jest; 
I  brook  no  insult  to  my  guest. 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  53 

38. 
"She  is  indeed  her  mother's  child; 
But  God's  sweet  pity  ministers 
Unto  no  whiter  soul  than  hers. 

39- 
"Let  Goody  Martin  rest  in  peace ; 
I  never  knew  her  harm  a  fly, 
And  witch  or  not,  God  knows, — not  I. 

40. 
"I  know  who  swore  her  life  away ; 

And,  as  God  lives,  I'd  not  condemn 
An  Indian  dog  on  word  of  them." 

41. 

The  broadest  lands  in  all  the  town, 

The  skill  to  guide,  the  power  to  awe, 
Were  Harden's;  and  his  word  was  law. 

42. 
None  dared  withstand  him  to  his  face, 
But  one  sly  maiden  spake  aside : 
"The  little  witch  is  evil-eyed! 

43- 
"Her  mother  only  killed  a  cow. 

Or  witched  a  churn  or  dairy  pan ; 
But  she,  forsooth,  must  charm  a  man!" 

44. 
Poor  Mabel,  in  her  lonely  home, 

Sat  by  the  window's  narrow  pane, 
White  in  the  moonlight's   silver  rain. 

49. 
She  strove  to  drown  her  sense  of  wrong, 
And,  in  her  old  and  simple  way, 
To  teach  her  bitter  heart  to  pray. 


64  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

50. 
Poor  child!  the  prayer,  begun  in  faith, 
Grew  to  a  low,  despairing  cry 
Of  utter  misery :  "Let  me  die ! 

51- 
"Oh !  take  me  from  the  scornful  eyes 

And  hide  me  where  the  cruel  speech 
And  mocking  finger  may  not  reach! 

52. 
"I  dare  not  breathe  my  mother's  name; 
A  daughter's  right  I  dare  not  crave 
To  weep  above  her  unblest  grave! 

53- 
"Let  me  not  live  until  my  heart, 
With  few  to  pity,  and  with  none 
To  love  me,  hardens  into  stone. 

54- 
"O  God !  have  mercy  on  thy  child, 

Whose  faith  in  Thee  grows  weak  and  small, 
And  take  me  ere  I  lose  it  all !" 

55- 
A  shadow  on  the  moonlight  fell, 

And  murmuring  wind  and  wave  became 
A  voice  whose  burden  was 'her  name. 

56. 
Had  then  God  heard  her  ?     Had  He  sent 
His  angel  down  ?     In  flesh  and  blood, 
Before  her  Esek  Harden  stood. 

60. 
Her  tears  of  grief  were  tears  of  joy, 
As,  folded  in  his  strong  embrace, 
She  looked  in  Esek  Harden 's  face. 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  55 

62. 

He  led  her  through  his  dewy  fields, 

To  where  the  swinging  lanterns  glowed, 
And  through  the  doors  the  huskers  showed. 

63. 
"Good  friends  and  neighbors !"  Esek  said, 
"I'm  weary  of  this  lonely  life ; 
In  Mabel  see  my  chosen  wife !" 

Directions  for  Pantomiming  "The  Witch's  Daughter" 


Scenes:     i.  The  Barn.     2.  Mabel's  Home. 

The  platform  must  be  arranged  for  this  number,  which  will 
also  be  in  keeping  with  the  day.  Curtains  must  be  hung  on  both 
sides  of  the  platform.  Behind  one,  represent  Mabel's  home,  which 
only  needs  the  space  and  a  window ;  behind  the  other  curtain  the 
villagers  pass.  Between  these  curtains  is  the  barn  scene;  picture 
this  scene  as  far  as  possible. 

Characters  : 
Mabel  Martin.  Reader. 

Esek  Harden.  Ten  to  twelve  villagers. 

The  Reader  stands  at  one  side. 

As  she  reads,  "On  Esek  Harden's  oaken  floor,"  the  villagers 
enter  and  act  enough  to  carry  out  the  words. 

During  the  reading  of  stanzas  13,  14  and  15,  Mabel  stands 
alone.  To  give  room  for  this,  some  of  the  villagers  retire  behind 
the  curtain. 

During  the  reading  of  stanzas  16,  17,  etc.,  all  are  off  the  plat- 
form; at  the  31st  stanza  they  re-enter,  Mabel  still  stands  aloof. 
Stanzas  32,  33,  34  and  36  must  be  acted  as  the  words  show.  At 
stanza  37,  Esek  steps  forward  and  seems  to  be  speaking.  Some  of 
the  villagers  appear  frightened  at  his  words  and  (stanza  41)  with- 
draw, leaving  room  for  two  girls  to  act  stanzas  42  and  43. 

Here  the  Reader  pauses ;  the  curtain  is  drawn  over  the  "barn 
scene,"  exposing  "Mabel's  room,"  where  she  sits  looking  out  of 
the  window. 


56  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

At  the  reading  of  the  prayer,  Mabel,  acts  as  if  she  were  pray- 
ing. Upon  the  entrance  of  Esek  Harden,  the  words  are  acted 
through  to  stanza  31.  Here  the  "barn  scene"  is  shown,  with  the 
villagers  all  gathered.  Esek  and  Mabel  enter  with  the  reading  of 
stanza  53.  During  the  reading  of  stanzas  56,  60,  62  and  63,  the 
villagers  gather  around  Mabel  and  Esek,  who  stand  well  to  the 
front,  forming  a  closing  picture. 

X. — Chorus  :    Doxology. 


part  ni. 
Thanksgiving:  Past  and  Present 


PARTIII. 

Thanksgiving:  Past  and  Present 

AN  EXERCISE  FOR  TWENTY-FIVE  CHILDREN 


PART  L— THE  PAST 

Stage  Arrangement:  Dark  background  plentifully  hung 
with  pine  boughs,  stalks  and  ears  of  corn,  firearms — guns,  rifles, 
bows  and  swords — any  Indian  relics ;  antlers,  mounted  birds  or 
animals  will  also  add  to  the  decorations.  At  center  of  stage  back 
have  a  large  dry-goods  box  covered  with  dark  cloth,  the  opening 
facing  the  wall  at  back. 

Music :  Slow,  impressive  music  before  the  curtain  is  raised. 
Stirring  patriotic  music  between  scenes. 

Characters:  Girl.  Boy.  Father  Time.  8  Pilgrims. 
4  boys  dressed  as  men,  4  girls  dressed  as  women. 

Costumes  :  Gire — any  white  gown  such  as  is  worn  by  small 
children  of  about  six. 

Boy — black  trousers  and  jacket,  fancy  white  shirt  waist.  The 
boy  should  be  somewhat  older  than  the  girl. 

Father  Time — draped  in  a  robe  of  black  (may  be  made  of 
shawls)  ;  he  wears  a  wig  of  long  white  hair;  carries  a  sickle. 

Pilgrims — Boys  wear  large,  dark  hats,  straight  jackets  with 
white  collars  and  cuffs,  knee  trousers  and  low  shoes.  One  or  two 
might  wear  dark  capes.  Each  boy  carries  an  old-fashioned  gun. 
Girls  wear  gray  cambric  gowns  made  short ;  tight-fitting  waist  and 
long  full  skirt ;  white  muslin  Puritan  caps,  wide  white  cuffs,  white 
neckerchief.    Each  carries  a  Bible. 

[Enter  Girl  and  Boy.     They  pass  to  front  of  stage.] 

Girl.     Fall  is  giving  way  to  winter, 

The  November  skies  are  gray, 
But  our  hearts  are  full  of  sunshine, 
'Cause  we  love  Thanksgiving  Day. 
Boy.     From  on  high  our  loving  Father 

Watches  o'er  us  through  the  days, 
And  for  comforts,  peace,  and  plenty, 
We  return  Thanksgiving  praise. 

59 


60  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Girl.     Have  we  always  had  Thanksgivings, 

Ever  since  the  world  was  new? 
Who  first  thought  we  ought  to  have  them? 
Tell  me  all  about  it — do. 
Boy.     Well,  I  really  don't  remember, 

t.        But  I'm  sure  it  was  some  one 
Who  was  very  good  and  thoughtful. 
Perhaps  it  was  George  Washington. 
Girl.     Well,  I  wish  some  one  would  tell  me 

The  story  of  Thanksgiving  Day; — 
But  oh,  there  comes  a  funny  man, 

[Looks  off  at  side  of  stage,  then  takes  hold  of  Boy's  arm 
with  one  hand  and  points  toward  the  old  man  with  the  other.] 

Just  see — who  is  it,  anyway? 
Boy.     Why,  that  is  Mr.  Father  Time, 

Come — we'll  have  to  run  away, 
'Cause  he's  dreadful  bad  to  children — 
Makes  'em  old  and  bent  and  gray. 

[They  take  hold  of  hands  and  run  off  at  one  side  of  stage.] 
Enter  Father  Tims. 

Father  Time  [laughing] .  Well,  well,  I  suppose  those  little 
folks  were  afraid  of  me — it  does  beat  all  how  people  like  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  of  old  Father  Time.  I  wish  that  little  girl  hadn't 
run  off;  she  said  she  wanted  to  hear  all  about  Thanksgiving  Day 
and  I  was  going  to  tell  her  the  story.  I'm  sure  I  know  it  if  any 
one  does,  for  wasn't  I  right  there  and  heard  all  the  particulars 
when  it  first  happened?  But  perhaps  there  are  some  other  little 
folks  here  who  wtmld  like  to  hear  the  story,  so  I  think  I'll  tell  it 
anyway. 

Let  me  see.  [Puts  hand  to  head  and  thinks.]  It  will  be  some 
trouble,  but  I  just  believe  I'll  do  it.  [Slaps  hand  against  knee  and 
laughs.]  That's  just  the  thing.  I'll  turn  my  "time  machine"  back- 
ward to  the  day  when  the  Pilgrims  held  the  first  Thanksgiving, 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  61 

and  let  them  tell  about  it  themselves.  Now  you  just  watch  and 
we'll  have  them  here  soon.  [Goes  to  the  box  at  back  of  stage  and 
pretends  to  turn  a  crank  while  some  one  behind  the  scenes  makes  a 
great  noise  to  imitate  the  creaking  of  the  machine,  such  as  nibbing 
a  piece  of  iron  on  an  old  washboard.'] 

Enter,  to  march  music,  8  Pilgrims,  four  boys  and  four  girls. 

The  boys  march  in  from  one  comer  {back)  of  stage  and  girls 
from  the  other,  pass  diagonally  to  center  of  stage,  in  couples  down 
center  to  front,  where  the  first  boy  turns  to  the  right,  the  first  girl 
to  the  left,  the  second  boy  to  the  left,  the  second  girl  to  the  right 
and  so  on.  The  lines  pass  half-way  up  right  and  left  sides  of  stage, 
turn  a  square  corner  and  pass  to  stage  center,  forming  a  line 
across  stage  center,  the  leaders  of  the  line  halting  about  a  foot 
from  each  side  of  stage  center;  the  same  distance  is  kept  between 
every  two  throughout  the  line.  When  they  have  reached  places 
the  music  ceases  and  Father  Tim£,  who  has  stood  by  his  machine 
during  the  marching,  speaks. 

Father  Time;.  My  friends  of  long  ago,  ye  who  endured  the 
hardships  of  life  in  bleak  New  England  when  the  country  was  new 
and  dangers  many,  pray  tell  us  of  the  first  Thanksgiving  you  have 
just  celebrated. 

[Bach  girl  as  she  begins  to  speak  drops  a  curtsy,  each  boy 
lifts  his  hat  and  bozvs  low.] 

First  Pilgrim .  You  ask  for  the  story  of  Thanksgiving  Day, 
yet  first  of  our  sad  trials  in  England  would  I  speak.  The  false 
customs  of  ye  established  church  of  that  land  we  could  not  prac- 
tise and  the  rules  imposed  upon  us  by  despotic  King  James  we 
could  not  abide.  Sad  were  our  hearts  as  we  longed  for  freedom 
to  worship  as  seemed  to  us  right  and  holy.  Then  did  William 
Bradford,  ye  brave  young  man,  gather  a  company  who  should  no 
longer  support  the  Church  of  England  but  in  a  strange  land 
should  find  new  homes  and  freedom  of  religion.  After  many 
hardships,  such  as  being  betrayed  to  the  king  when  about  to  sail, 
having  our  money  and  much  belongings  taken  from  us,  friends 
and  even  families  being  separated,  at  last  did  we  escape  from 
England,  turning  our  faces  to  a  distant  land. 


62  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Second  Pilgrim.  To  ye  land  of  Holland  we  journeyed  and 
for  eleven  years  there  made  our  homes  among  the  quiet  Dutch. 
Peace  and  freedom  were  ours,  yet  were  our  hearts  unsatisfied. 
Firm  and  rigid  were  our  principles,  simple  and  unassuming  our 
habits,  and  ye  free-hearted,  careless  customs  of  the  people  about 
us  we  could  not  approve.  As  the  years  passed  poverty  still  pressed 
her  unfriendly  hand  upon  us,  while  our  sons  and  daughters  grew 
like  unto  the  Hollanders  whose  ways  we  fancied  not.  At  last  our 
restless  spirits  cried  for  another  pilgrimage  and  we  bade  adieu 
to  Holland. 

Third  Pilgrim.  In  two  vessels,  ye  Speedwell  and  ye  May- 
flower, we  embarked  for  far  distant  America ;  but  scarce  had  our 
journey  begun  when  ye  Speedwell  sprung  a  leak.  Of  no  avail 
were  all  efforts  to  repair  it  and  those  who  could  not  find  accommo- 
dation in  ye  Mayflower  were  obliged  to  remain  behind.  Over  the 
blue  Atlantic  sailed  our  good  ship,  often  tossed  by  angry  billows, 
once  indeed  in  danger  of  being  wrecked ;  but  the  brave  passen- 
gers, resolutely  facing  all  perils,  sang  amid  the  storms  and  at 
length  beheld  the  shores  of  a  new  land. 

Fourth  Pilgrim,.  Into  Cape  Cod  Bay  sailed  ye  gallant  May- 
flower safely  bearing  its  band  of  sturdy  Pilgrims  to  the  shores  of 
bleak  New  England.  Desolate  were  the  cold,  rock-bound  coasts, 
and  threatening  the  tones  of  the  dashing  billows ;  sadly  mournful 
were  the  whisperings  of  the  solemn  wind-tossed  pines  as  they 
murmured  at  our  intrusion.  The  deep  shadows  of  rock  and  wood- 
land darkened  not  our  resolute  -hearts.  To  the  swelling  accom- 
paniment of  sea  and  forest  rose  our  songs  of  freedom,  our  hymns 
of  praise.  Thus  we  consecrated  our  years  of  toil  to  the  unfolding 
of  the  possibilities  of  this  new  land. 

Fifth  Pilgrim.  A  strange  people,  the  dusky  red  men  of  the 
forest,  we  found  on  these  shores  and  learned  to  call  them  friends. 
Very  queer  were  their  buckskin  garments,  the  fringe  of  grasses 
and  wampum  belts,  their  tents  of  bark  and  reed  and  branches, 
their  bowls  of  clay  and  willow  baskets.  Such  as  proved  warlike 
our  brave  Miles  Standish  with  warrior  heart  that  knew  no  fear, 
subdued  and  brought  to  terms  of  peace.    Massasoit,  Samoset,  and 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  63 

Squanto  with  great  kindness  taught  and  helped  us  in  many  ways. 
From  them  we  obtained  the  shining  ears  of  Indian  corn  and 
learned  to  use  it  for  food.  When  in  spring  the  oak  leaves  were 
the  size  of  a  mouse's  ear  they  showed  us  how  to  plant  it  and  gave 
us  ears  for  seed. 

Sixth  Pilgrim.  On  Christmas  day,  when  cold  were  the 
frosts  and  the  north  wind,  we  began  our  new  homes  at  Plymouth. 
The  ring  of  swift  axes  was  our  Christmas  carol  while  our  hearts 
throbbed  to  the  melody  of  peace  and  good-will.  Steadily  fell  the 
pines  beneath  our  swinging  axes,  and  slowly  rose  our  homes,  our 
homes  of  privation  and  freedom.  Each  man  who  brought  with 
him  a  family  was  to  have  his  own  humble  castle,  while  those  who 
were  not  thus  blessed  were  to  make  their  abode  with  the  others. 

Seventh  Pilgrim.  Then  followed  trials  and  hardships, 
famine,  sickness  and  death.  At  times  those  who  were  well  scarce 
numbered  enough  to  care  for  the  ones  who  were  ailing.  One  hun- 
dred and  two  were  with  us  when  we  reached  the  shores  of  New 
England,  but  ere  the  sunshine  of  spring  gladdened  our  hearts 
with  its  brightness  fully  one-half  of  our  number  slept  in  their 
graves  by  the  seashore.  Slowly  grim  want  came  among  us  till 
we  gazed  at  the  pale  face  of  famine,  yet  the  unconquered  heart  of 
the  Pilgrim  endured,  toiled  on  and  was  hopeful.  Ere  the  winter 
had  passed  seven  stout  homes  had  been  builded,  which  afforded 
grateful  shelter  to  our  numbers  so  greatly  diminished.  Then  when 
the  spring  came  we  planted  our  maize,  our  pease  and  our  barley, 
toiling  with  cheerful  hearts  as  we  hoped  for  a  bountiful  harvest. 

Eighth  Pilgrim.  Upon  our  landing  at  Plymouth  we  had 
chosen  John  Carver  as  governor,  but  when  he  died  in  the  spring- 
time we  gave  William  Bradford  the  office.  As  in  the  autumn  days 
we  gathered  the  fruits  of  our  labor,  the  bushels  of  golden  corn, 
the  pease  and  a  small  share  of  barley,  our  hearts  were  filled  with 
praise  to  the  gracious  God  of  the  harvest.  Then  our  governor 
made  proclamation,  the  wise  and  devout  William  Bradford,  that 
for  our  blessings  received  and  the  bountiful  fruits  of  our  labor 
we  should  hold  a  time  of  Thanksgiving  and  praise  to  our  Heavenly 
Father.    Forthwith  into  the  forest  were  sent  four  unerring  marks- 


64  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

men  who  returned  with  a  load  of  wild  turkey  and  water-fowl  in 
abundance.  Our  Indian  friends  who  came  to  rejoice  and  keep 
the  feast  with  us  brought  with  them  four  large  deer  which  gave 
us  venison  in  plenty.  Thus  on  the  New  England  shore  by  ye 
sturdy  and  brave-hearted  Pilgrims  was  held  the  Thanksgiving 
feast,  the  time  of  praise  and  rejoicing. 

\All  the  Pilgrims  sing  the  following  words.'] 

Tune :     "Old  Hundred." 

Praise  God  who  guides  the  Pilgrims'  way, 
Praise  Him  this  glad  Thanksgiving  day, 
Praise  Him  with  hearts  of  glad  delight, 
The  God  of  freedom  and  of  right. 

Tableau  :     "Pilgrims  Going  to  Church." 

[All  face  side  of  stage  and  form  a  group,  one  boy  steps 
toward  front  of  stage,  acting  as  guard,  all  slightly  bow  heads  and 
mark  time  as  if  marching  slowly.  Boys  shoulder  guns,  girls  clasp 
hands  over  Bibles.  Some  one  behind  the  scene  beats  time  on  a 
drum,  and  colored  lights  are  thrown  on  stage,'] 

[curtain.] 


PART  H.— THE  PRESENT 

Stage  Arrangement:  Extending  across  the  stage  about 
four  feet  from  the  front  suspend  a  curtain  of  pink  mosquito  net- 
ting which  can  be  held  in  place  by  tacking  its  lower  edge  to  the 
floor.  In  front  of  this  curtain  and  near  one  side  of  stage  have  an 
easy  chair  and  a  footrest. 

Characters:  Young  Man,  afterward  transformed  to  Old 
Man.  Father  Time.  Miss  Thanksgiving.  6  Little  Girls. 
6  Brownies. 

Costumes:  Young  Man  wears  stiff  hat,  standing  collar, 
showy  tie,  heavy  watch  chain  and  rings;  carries  a  dainty  cane. 
After  he  is  transformed  he  wears  white  wig  and  whiskers,  a  bright 
flowered  dressing  gown ;  carries  a  heavy  cane. 

Father  Time — same  as  in  Part  I.    (See  page  59.) 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  65 

Miss  Thanksgiving — long  white  gown  with  scarlet  trim- 
mings and  sash,  a  gilt  crown ;  carries  tiny  gilt-covered  wand. 

Little  Girls — white  gowns. 

Brownies — queer  little  bright  colored  suits  ideas  for  which 
may  be  obtained  from  pictures  of  Brownies.* 

Enter  Young  Man. 

Young  Man  \drawlingly\.  Well,  deah  me,  from  all  the  fuss 
that's  being  made  I  suppose  Thanksgiving  Day  has  come  again. 
For  my  part  I  don't  believe  in  it  and  I  haven't  any  time  for  all 
this  talk  about  being  thankful.  I  don't  see  as  there's  much  to  be 
thankful  for,  at  least  my  blessings  aren't  numerous  enough  to  get 
excited  about.  Why  there  are  a  whole  lot  of  people  who  haven't 
much  of  anything  and  they're  spending  this  day  being  thankful. 
I  don't  like  living  very  well  any  way;  now  I'll  tell  you  one  I 
would  be  thankful  for — to  be  an  old  man.  Why  I  just  wish  this 
minute  that  I  was  seventy  years  old  so  I  wouldn't  have  to  bother 
to  live  so  long.    That's  all  I'd  feel  like  being  thankful  for. 

[Stands  at  one  side  of  stage  with  back  slightly  to  the  opposite 
side.] 

Enter  Father  Time. 

Father  Time  [aside].  Here's  a  foolish  young  fellow  who 
doesn't  know  what  he's  talking  about.  Wants  to  be  an  old  man ! 
Well,  I'll  have  to  teach  him  a  lesson.  [Walks'  over  to  Young 
Man.]  Hello,  sir!  [Young  Man  turns  quickly.]  You  want  to 
be  old,  and  I  can  give  you  just  what  you  want  in  that  line.  [Makes 
a  few  passes  with  his  hands  in  front  of  Young  Man's  face.]  Now 
just  follow  me. 

[He  leads  him  off  stage,  and  while  Young  Man  is  changing 
his  apparel  Father  Time  pretends  to  be  turning  his  "time  ma- 
chine," standing  just  at  edge  of  stage,  and  some  one  behind  scenes 
imitates  the  grinding  noise,  as  in  Part  I.] 

Enter  Oed  Man.    Father  Time  leaves  stage. 

Oed  Man.  Well,  well !  here  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  I'm 
an  old  man — why,  I  must  be  seventy-five !  This  is  delightful. 
Just  think  of  all  the  years  of  work  and  worry  I've  skipped — it's 

*Brownie  pattern  sent  postpaid  for  50  cents  by  Edgar  S.  Werner  &  Co. 


66  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

wonderful.  I'm  sure  I  ought  to  be  thankful  now,  and  I  am  too. 
I  feel  rather  tired  though — think  I'll  have  to  take  a  short  nap. 
[Seats  himself  in  the  easy  chair,  puts  feet  on  the  foot-rest,  closes 
eyes  and  pretends  to  sleep.] 

Enter  Miss  Thanksgiving. 

Miss  Thanksgiving.  Ah,  my  friend,  sleep  on,  but  in  thy 
dreams  shalt  thou  see  strange  visions.  For  shame  that  your  heart 
responds  not  to  the  sweet  influence  of  Thanksgiving  cheer  and 
praises.  I  indeed  am  the  spirit  of  Thanksgiving  and  I  must  needs 
try  my  gentle  power  on  thee.  Perhaps  in  thy  dreams  I  can  teach 
thee  that  there  is  no  heart  which  can  not  count  its  blessings,  no 
life  but  that  should  be  gladly  lived.  [She  zvaves  her  wand  before 
him,  then  blows  a  soft  blast  on  a  tiny  trumpet,  and  takes  her 
position  at  opposite  side  of  stage.] 

[Enter  6  Little  Girls  who  march  and  form  line  directly 
back  of  pink  curtain.] 

First  Girl.  On  this  day  of  happy  thanksgiving,  when  our 
hearts  are  singing  glad  praises  to  the  bountiful  Father  above  for 
His  care  and  manifest  goodness,  let  us  now  to  memory  recall 
and  make  known  with  heartfelt  rejoicing  some  token  of  watch- 
care  and  love,  some  blessing  for  which  we  are  thankful. 

For  this  wonderful,  beautiful  world,  with  its  shadows  and 
showers  and  sunshine ;  its  marvelous  forests  and  lakes,  its  rivers 
and  mountains  and  valleys ;  for  the  beauty  in  flower  and  tree,  and 
the  language  that's  written  therein,  would  we  offer  our  glad  songs 
of  praise  and  thanks  to  our  Heavenly  Father. 

Second  Girl.  For  the  home  where  each  heart  may  find 
peace  and  rest  from  the  world's  busy  care;  for  the  shelter  and 
comfort  therein,  whether  cottage  or  palace  of  king;  for  the  castle, 
though  humble  and  poor  that  each  heart  may  claim  as  its  own; 
for  our  homes,  the  dwellings  of  love,  we  also  our  thanks  would 
return. 

Third  Girl.  Let  us  not  forget  the  dear  friends,  who  lighten 
the  cares  of  each  day,  who  comfort  in  time  of  distress  and  rejoice 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  67 

with  us  when  we  are  gay.  There's  no  burden,  though  heavy  and 
sad,  but  some  friend  will  help  us  to  bear  it ;  there's  no  sorrow, 
though  ever  so  great,  but  kind  friends  will  patiently  share  it.  For 
the  friends,  who  like  rare  flowers  sweet,  make  life's  pathway  more 
happy  and  bright;  for  the  blessing  of  their  kindly  love  would  we 
thank  our  Father  to-night. 

Fourth  Girl.  We  live  not  in  days  but  in  deeds,  and  our 
lives  are  measured  at  last  by  what  we  have  done  for  the  world 
and  our  work  as  the  swift  years  passed.  Every  door  at  which  we 
may  knock  the  key  of  hard  work  will  unlock ;  'tis  man's  greatest 
helper  and  friend,  it  brings  success  and  contentment.  Then  let  us 
be  glad  and  give  thanks  for  the  work  we  each  find  to  do  and 
consecrate  daily  our  lives  to  deeds  that  are  noble  and  true. 

Fifth  Girl.  For  the  multitude  of  small  comforts  that  day 
by  day  we  enjoy;  for  the  blessings  of  such  slight  account  that  we 
scarcely  recall  them  to  mind;  for  these  little  tokens  of  love  and 
care  from  our  Father  on  high,  we  would  return  gracious  thanks 
and  pass  them  not  thoughtlessly  by.  You  know  many  littles  at 
last  make  a  factor  of  wonderful  power,  and  our  lives  are  greatly 
made  up  of  these  blessings  of  trifling  account,  which  though  we 
oft  notice  them  not  are  the  ones  we  should  sometimes  prize  most. 

Sixth  Girl.  And  for  the  best  blessing  of  all,  the  blessing  of 
life  and  of  health,  let  us  return  grateful  thanks  and  rejoice  in 
the  days  that  are  ours.  To  live  in  this  beautiful  world,  to  live, 
to  enjoy  and  to  do,  ah,  that  is  a  blessing  we  ne'er  can  fathom  until 
life  is  throughj  To  live,  and  to  better  the  world,  to  help  in  its 
busy  warfare,  is  indeed  a  blessing  that  God  intended  we  each 
should  enjoy.  Then  let  us  be  glad  for  the  life  that  is  ours  this 
Thanksgiving  Day,  and  improve  our  years  as  they  pass,  nor  heed- 
lessly fritter  them  away. 

[The  girls  now  take  hold  of  hands,  bow  low,  move  slowly 
backward  (six  abreast)  until  they  reach  the  back  of  stage  where 
they  stand  in  line.'] 

[Bnter  6  Brownils  who  skip  and  dance  about  the  stage,  then 
take  places  just  back  of  curtain.] 


68  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

First  Brownie;.  We  are  merry  little  Brownies  who  have 
come  to  assist  at  this  glad  Thanksgiving.  We  are  busy  little  fel- 
lows and  are  always  ready  to  help  our  friends.  If  you  call  on  us 
for  aid  you  will  never  feel  that  you  have  nothing  for  which  to 
give  thanks. 

My  name  is  Industry,  and  if  you  want  to  make  a  success  of 
life  just  call  on  me.  The  person  who  makes  Industry  his  friend 
and  helper  will  always  be  ready  to  keep  Thanksgiving  with  a 
cheerful  heart. 

Second  Brownie.  My  name  is  Perseverance  and  I'm  just 
the  one  to  help  you  along  in  the  world.  "Never  give  up"  is  my 
motto  and  I  have  found  that  the  way  to  win  is  to  keep  always  at 
work.  Perseverance  is  sure  to  gain  success,  and  all  who  look  to 
me  for  aid  will  find  when  Thanksgiving  Day  comes  round  that 
they  have  abundant  cause  for  giving  thanks. 

Third  Brownie.  My  name  is  Patience.  You  have  all  heard 
of  me  because  I  was  the  dear  friend  of  Job,  and  you  surely  re- 
member how  much  I  helped  him.  You  need  not  expect  to  suc- 
ceed in  life  unless  Patience  sustains  you  when  things  go  wrong. 
Perseverance  and  I  go  hand  in  hand,  and  between  us  we  are  a 
sure  cure  for  failure.  At  any  rate,  give  us  a  trial  and  let  us  see 
what  we  can  do  for  you. 

Fourth  Brownie.  Mr.  Nimble  Finger  is  my  name,  and  I 
am  the  one  to  help  you  make  things  fly.  The  man  who  pokes 
along  in  life  needn't  be  surprised  if  things  seem  rather  dull  when 
Thanksgiving  comes  along.  You  must  get  a  hustle  on  if  you  want 
to  get  to  the  front,  and  Mr.  Nimble  Finger  is  just  the  one  to  help 
you.    You'll  always  find  me  at  your  service. 

Fifth  Brownie.  I  am  called  Mr.  Little  Fellow  because  it's 
my  belief  that  if  you  want  to  get  along  in  this  world  you  must  not 
neglect  the  little  things.  Some  people  are  always  looking  for 
something  big  to  do,  and  many  fail  to  make  a  success  of  life 
because  they  neglect  the  little  duties  and  opportunities.  If  you 
don't  believe  what  I  say,  just  call  on  me  for  help  and  see  if  I 
can  not  prove  that  I  am  right. 

Sixth  Brownie.     My  name  is  Cheerfulness,  and  if  you  want 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRA  TIONS 


69 


to  feel  at  Thanksgiving  time  that  you  have  more  blessings  and 
comforts  than  you  can  count,  just  make  me  your  friend.  It  is 
really  wonderful  how  I  can  help  you  over  the  hard  places  in  life. 
Why,  half  the  battle  is  won  when  you  learn  to  look  on  the  cheerful 
side  of  affairs. 

Now  with  six  such  little  fellows  as  we  to  help  you  along 
there  surely  is  no  reason  why  life  isn't  worth  the  living  and  en- 
joying. 

[Brownies  take  hold  of  hands  and  march  slowly  backivard 
(six  abreast)  until  they  are  just  in  front  of  the  line  of  Little 
Girls.  They  all  face  right  and  march  in  couples  across  back  of 
stage  down  right  side  and  form  single  line  just  back  of  curtain. 
They  then  sing  the  folloiving  words.] 


Thanksgiving  Hymn 


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For  happy  homes  and  loved  ones  dear, 
For  comforts  of  another  year; 
Our  Father  for  these  blessings  free, 
We  now  return  our  thanks  to  Thee, 
Loving  watch-care,  tender  mercy, 
Thy  blessings  to  us,  oh,  how  free! 


70  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

For  sunshine  and  refreshing  rain, 
For  harvests  of  the  hill  and  plain; 
For  life  and  strength  and  happy  days, 
We  now  return  our  heartfelt  praise. 
Loving  praises,  glad  rejoicing, 
We  now  return  our  heartfelt  praise. 

[Little  Girls  and  Brownies  face  left  and  march  off  stage 
at  back.  Miss  Thanksgiving  crosses  stage  and  zvaves  her  wand 
over  Old  Man,  zvho  awakes  with  a  start.  Miss  Thanksgiving 
leaves  the  stage  before  he  sees  her.] 

Old  Man.  Where  am  I  ?  Have  I  been  asleep,  and  did  I 
dream  or  was  my  vision  a  reality  ?  Am  I  alone,  and  where  are  the 
voices  who  taught  me  the  beautiful  lessons  of  Thanksgiving? 
How  came  I  to  be  old?  I  thought  I  was  young.  Ah,  I  remem- 
ber! Fool  that  I  was,  I  wished  for  old  age  and  was  granted  my 
desire !  Oh,  to  think  I  imagined  I  had  nothing  to  be  thankful 
for,  when  the  world  is  so  full  of  blessings !  If  my  dream  be 
true,  and  I  feel  that  it  is,  life  is  a  wonderful  thing.  Oh,  if  I 
could  undo  my  mistake!    How  can  I  endure  this? 

Enter  Miss  Thanksgiving  and  Father  Time. 

Miss  T.  Father  Time,  I  am  sure  our  friend  has  seen  the  folly 
of  his  ungratefulness  and  learned  the  sweet  lesson  of  Thanksgiv- 
ing. I  pray  you  restore  to  him  the  youth  he  has  lost,  that  he  may 
yet  live  to  bless  the  world  with  his  earnest  labors. 

Old  Man.  Oh*  indeed,  I  implore  thee  to  grant  her  gracious 
request.  Surely  I  have  seen  the  error  of  my  ways  and  repented. 
But  give  me  back  my  youth  and  the  happiest  day  of  the  year  shall 
be  to  me  the  glad  Thanksgiving  time. 

Father  Time.  Well,  I  guess  I  shall  have  to  favor  you,  but 
I'll  keep  my  eyes  on  you  in  the  future  to  be  sure  you  are  true  to 
your  promise.     Come  on. 

[Father  Time  leaves  the  stage  with  the  Old  Man,  while 
Miss  Thanksgiving  goes  off  at  the  opposite  side.] 

[curtain.] 


PART  IV. 

Thanksgiving  Entertainment  Program 


FOR  PRIMARY  GRADES 


Program 

PART  IV. 


I.— ACROSTIC:  "Thanksgiving  Day"         .... 
II. — SONG:  "Thanksgiving  Day  Is  Here  Once  More" 
III.— RECITATION:  "Story  of  the  Pilgrims"       . 
IV.— SONG:  "Once  More  We  Hail  Thee"      .... 

V.— EXERCISE:  "Story  of  a  Seed" 

VI.— EXERCISE:  "Autumn  of  1622" 

VII.— SONG:  "What  Makes  Thanksgiving  Day?"  . 
VIII.— MOTION  SONG:  "  For  the  Jolly  Jack-o'-Lanterns"    . 
IX.— CONCERT  RECITATION:  "  Making  Jack-o'-Lanterns" 

X. — SONG:  "  Three  Maids  of  a  Housekeeping  Turn"  . 
XL— RECITATION:  "Three  Little  Cooks"  . 

XII.— ACROSTIC:  "Pumpkin-Pie" 

XIIL— QUOTATIONS:  "The  Feast  Time  of  the  Year" 

XIV.— RECITATION:  " Thanksgivin' " 

XV.— RECITATION:   "Why?" 

XVL— EXERCISE:  "What  Each  Is  Thankful  For" 
XVIL— SONG:  "Thanksgiving  Song"  .        .        .        . 


Page 

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72 


PART  IV. 

Thanksgiving  Entertainment  Program 


FOR  PRIMARY  GRADES 


By  Stanley  Scheie. 


I. — Acrostic  :     "Thanksgiving  Day."   .      .     By  Twelve  Children 

[Bach  child  carries  a  banner  or  large  card  having  on  it  one 
of  the  letters  of  the  word  "Thanksgiving."  The  banner  or  card 
should  be  decorated  with  cranberries,  com,  dried  fruit,  etc.  Chil- 
dren enter  one  at  a  time.  First  child  enters,  steps  on  platform, 
speaks  its  line,  and  then  shows  its  letter,  keeping  it  before  audi- 
ence. Next  child  follozvs  first  child  at  completion  of  Urst  child's 
line,  steps  on  platform  and  speaks  its  line,  then  shows  its  letter, 
etc.,  and  so  on  until  all  are  on  line  and  the  audienee  sees 
"THANKSGIVING"  spelled  out.] 

Thanksgiving  Day 


Thanksgiving  Day  has  come  once  more 
Hurrah  !•  for  all  the  autumn  store ; 
Apples,  fruits  and  nuts  and  grain 
Now  plentiful  and  ripe  again. 
Kind  Nature  spreads  the  mighty  fe?»st, 
Sending  her  gifts  now  west,  now  east ; 
Gives  to  us  all  our  harvest  time, 
In  many  a  land,  in  many  a  clime. 
Very  thankfully  here  we  stand, 
In  turn  we  view  on  every  hand, 
Not  only  useful  things  but  gay, 
Given  for  this  Thanksgiving  Day. 

II. — Song:     "Thanksgiving  Day  is  Here  Once  More."     By  the 
Acrostic  Children. 

73 


74 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 


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THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  75 

[When  zuords  of  second  stanza  are  reached,  the  children  be- 
gin to  march  out,  the  last  ones  making  their  exit  on  last  words. ,] 

Thanksgiving  Day  Is  Here  Once  More 


[Tune:     "When  Johnny  Comes  Marching  Home."] 

Thanksgiving  Day  is  here  once  more, 

Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 
Of  fruits  and  grains  we  have  a  store, 

Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 
We  come  from  the  north,  we  come  so  gay; 
We  come  from  the  south,  on  this  bright  day, 
For  we  all  will  greet  Thanksgiving  Day  again. 

We  bring  you  pumpkins  big  and  fair, 

Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 
And  turkeys  good  and  chickens  rare, 

Hurrah !  Hurrah ! 
And  pies  and  cakes,  all  crisp  and  sweet, 
And  apples  red,  so  good  to  eat, 

For  we  all  will  greet  Thanksgiving  Day  again. 
III. — Recitation  :     "Story   of   the   Pilgrims."     Told   by    Nine 
Children  (each  carrying  a  concealed  letter). 

[Nine  children  enter;  -first  two  children  recite  first  stanza. 
Bach  of  the  following  stanzas  is  recited  by  one  child,  until  the  last 
stanza,  which  is  recited  by  two  children.  As  soon  as  the  last 
stanza  is  finished,  the  children  stand  a  moment,  then  the  leader 
holds  in  view  the  letter  "M"  and  speaks  about  it,  and  each  child 
in  turn  holds  in  view  a  letter  and  recites  a  line.  At  finish,  the 
word  "MAYFLOWER"  is  before  audience.] 

Story  of  the  Pilgrims 


Almost  three  hundred  years  ago 

When  all  the  land  was  covered  with  snow, 

The  Pilgrims  came  across  the  sea 

To  find  a  home  where  they  might  be  free. 


f6  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  boat  in  which  they  sailed  away 

Was  the  Mayflower.    Many  a  day 

Will  its  name  be  sung,  and  the  glory  told 

Of  the  three  months'  sail  in  the  Mayflower  bold. 

On  Plymouth  Rock,  they  came  ashore, 
Where  no  white  man  had  been  before ; 
Only  the  Indians  lived  there  then, 
They'd  never  seen  the  "pale-faced"  men. 

The  Pilgrims,  through  cold  winter  days, 
Tried  in  ever  so  many  ways 
To  keep  themselves  and  their  children  fed, 
But  many  died,  I've  heard  it  said. 

They  built  their  homes  of  logs  of  wood, 
And  in  the  spring  as  soon  as  they  could, 
They  planted  corn  and  oats  and  wheat 
And  other  good  things  they  liked  to  eat. 

They  were  so  glad  when  harvest  came 
And  every  one  had  plenty  again, 
They  decided  to  have  a  merry  feast 
For  every  one  from  great  to  least. 

And  so  they  had  Thanksgiving  Day, 
And  met  to   feast  and  sing  and  pray, 
They  thanked  the  Father  who  sent  the  rain 
And  let  the  sunshine  ripen  the  grain. 

The  Mayflower— Acrostic 


Many,  many  years  ago, 

Amidst  the  wind  and  sleet  and  snow, 

Ye  glorious  Pilgrims  left  the  shore, 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  77 

From  England  parted  evermore. 
Left  all  their  friends  and  kin  behind 
On  this  new  land  a  home  to  find. 
Winter  was  coming  bleak  and  bare, 
Every  one  was  full  of  care ; 
Reaching  the  shore  they  knelt  to  pray, 
This  was  the  first  Thanksgiving  Day. 

IV.— Song:     "Once  More  We  Hail  Thee."     By  School. 
\Tnne:     "S'wanee  River."] 
[All  sing  with  school,  then  exit  during  last  chorus.~\ 

Once  More  We  Hail  Thee 


Once  more  we  hail  the  glad  Thanksgiving 

With  songs  of  cheer; 
Once  more  we  render  thanks  to  Heaven 

For  blessings  of  the  year. 

Chorus — 

Countless  as  the  sands  of  ocean 

Or  the  stars  above 
Are  all  the  blessings  to  us  given 
By  Heaven's  boundless  love. 

Each  promise  spoken  by  the  springtime 

In  bud  and  flower 
Returns  to  us  in  golden  harvest — 

Now  is  fulfilment's  hour. 
Chorus — 

V. — Exercise;  :     "Story  of  a  Seed."    By  Five  Children. 


78  THANKSGIVING   CELEB R A  TIONS 

Story  of  a  Seed 


First  Child  [enters  holding  a  seed  in  view]. 

THE  SEED. 

Just  a  little  seed, 
Very  small  indeed; 
Put  it  in  the  ground, 
In  a  little  mound, 
And  wait  and  see 
What  it  will  be. 

Second  Child  [enters  carrying  a  pumpkin  vine,  which  may  be 
made  of  tissue  paper]. 

THE   VINE. 

The  seed  became  a  lovely  vine, 

That  o'er  the  brown  earth  used  to  twine, 

And  at  our  feet  so  very  low 

Went  on  and  on,  to  grow  and  grow. 

Third  Chied  [enters  with  a  blossom]. 

THE  FLOWER. 

The  summer  rain,  the  summer  shine, 
That  wet  and  warmed  the  pretty  vine, 
Had  somehow  quite  a  wondrous  power, 
Which  wrought  this  lovely  yellow  flower. 

Fourth  Child  [enters  bringing  a  pumpkin]. 

THE  ERUIT. 

The  little  flower  grew  and  grew, 
In  sun  and  shower  and  moistening  dew; 
And  when  the  leaves  began  to  fall, 
There  lay  this  gorgeous  yellow  ball — 
The  prize  for  harvest  best  of  all. 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  79 

Fifth  Child  [enters  holding  a  pie]. 

THE  PIE. 

Hurrah  for  the  tiny  seed! 

Hurrah  for  the  flower  and  vine! 
Hurrah  for  the  golden  pumpkin, 

Yellow,  and  plump,  and  fine! 
But  better  than  all  beginnings, 

Sure  nobody  can  deny, 
Is  the  end  of  the  whole  procession — 
•     This  glorious  pumpkin-pie. 

VI. — Exercise:     "Autumn   of   1622."     By   Six  Children,   Boys 
and  Girls. 

[Children  enter  bearing  vines,  fruits,  berries,  pumpkins,  ears 
of  corn,  etc.  Children  {except  pumpkins)  group  in  pyramid 
form.  First  pupil  turns  to  audience  and  recites,  goes  back  to  pyra- 
mid and  busies  himself.  Second  pupil  turns  and  recites,  returns  to 
his  work.    Bach  in  turn  does  the  same.] 

Autumn  of  1622 

First  Child. 

Such  an  autumn  as  'twas  in  1622 ! 
And  such  a  harvest ! 

Second  Child. 

"God  be  praised !"  said  Governor  Bradford.  "Let  us  appoint 
a  day  for  solemn  services  of  thanks  to  God  who  has  poured  out 
upon  us  such  rich  blessings." 

Third  Child. 

The  golden  pumpkins  were  harvested,  the  corn  was  husked, 
the  wild  plums  and  grapes  were  gathered  and  preparation  was 
made  in  every  cabin  for  a  generous  Thanksgiving  dinner-. 

Fourth  Child. 

The  pumpkin  slicing  was  the  best  fun  of  all.  First,  the  pump- 
kin must  be  halved,  then  it  must  be  cut  into  rings,  and  woe  to  the 


80  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

child  so  clumsy  as  to  break  these  rings.    Then  the  rings  must  be 
laid  upon  the  table,  arid  the  tough  rinds  be  sliced  off. 

Fifth  Child. 

We  must  not  forget  the  guests  these  people  invited.  Inviting 
company  for  Thanksgiving,  you  see,  was  from  the  first  a  New 
England  custom.  The  guests  at  this  first  Thanksgiving  were  the 
great  Indian  chief  Massasoit  and  one  hundred  of  his  braves. 

Sixth  Child. 

What  do  you  suppose  the  Indians  thought  of  the  roasted 
turkey  and  the  pumpkin  pie?  They  were  strange  guests,  but  the 
colonists  were  kind  to  them.  The  Indians  were  true  to  the  pledge 
of  friendship,  and  there  was  the  best  of  feeling  between  them. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  the  day  was  a  joyous  one  to  the  red  men 
and  the  colonists. 

VII. — Song  :     "What  Makes  Thanksgiving  Day?"    By  the  School 
and  the  Six  Children. 

What  Makes  Thanksgiving  Day? 


[Tune:    "Auld  Lang  Syne."] 

'Tis  not  the  feast  so  richly  spread, 

'Tis  not  the  word  we  say, 
'Tis  not  the  greeting  and  the  song 

That  make  Thanksgiving  Day. 

But  here's  to  one  little  thought  for  us, 

To  take  and  put  away ; 
Two  helpful  hands  and  one  glad  heart 

Will  make  Thanksgiving  Day. 

VIII. — Motion  Song:     "For  the  Jolly  J ack-o' -Lanterns."     By 
Six  Children  (still  on  stage). 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  81 

For  the  Jolly  Jack-o'-Lanterns 


[Tune:     "Comin   Thro'  the  Rye."] 
[While  singing  first  stanza  children  place  pumpkins  at  base 
of  pyramid  and  make  gestures  of  solving  seeds.] 
Half  a  dozen  lads  and  lasses 

Were  coming  thro'  the  corn, 
Sow'd  some  pumpkin  seeds,  'tis  whispered, 
On  an  April  morn. 

Every  lassie,  every  laddie, 

Thought,  with  laughing  eyes, 
Of  the  jolly  jack-o'-lanterns 

And  of  pumpkin-pies. 
Children  [look  smilingly  at  audience]. 
Half  a  dozen  lads  and  lasses, 

Amidst  the  rustling  corn, 
Watched  some  pumpkin  vines,  'tis  whispered, 

On  a  summer  morn. 

[Through  these  words  children  bend  down  and  look  at  vines 
very  intently.] 

Every  raindrop,  every  sunbeam, 

Do  your  very  best ; 
Make  our  pumpkins  grow  and  ripen, 
We  will  do  the  rest. 

Half  a  dozen  lads  and  lasses 
Were  coming  thro'  the  corn, 
Found  ripe  pumpkins  'midst  the  blossoms 
On  an  autumn  morn. 

Proudly  homeward  now  they  bear  them, 

Each  a  splendid  size, 
For  the  jolly  jack-o'-lanterns 

And  the  pumpkin-pies. 

[Through  this  verse  children  make  motions  of  gathering 
pumpkins,  and,  at  the  end,  they  each  pick  up  one  and  march  into 
half-circle.    Bach  sits  on  his  pumpkin.] 


82  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

IX. — Concert   Recitation:    "Making  J ack-o' -Lanterns."     By 
Three  Boys. 

{Three  boys  enter,  each  carrying  a  pumpkin  (that  has  been 
scooped  out)  and  a  jack-knife.  During  the  recitation  each  boy 
makes  a  jack-o'-lantern.  The  other  children  on  the  stage  gather 
around,  watching  the  work.] 

Making  Jack-o'-Lanterns 


Just  take  a  golden  pumpkin 

Of  quite  the  largest  size, 
Cut  all  'round  the  stem,  just  so, 
Scrape  out  the  inside  below, 

And  cut  two  holes  for  eyes. 
And  now  fix  a  nose  beneath, 
And  such  a  great  big  mouth  with  teeth, 

And  you've  a  jack-o'-lantern! 

Then  fix  a  tallow  candle, 

Just  big  enough  to  light, 
And  when  it  flickers,  see  him  blink, 
And  when  it  flares  up,  see  him  wink 

And  smile  so  broad  and  bright. 
This  is  the  j  oiliest  sort  of  a  fellow, 
With  cheery  face  so  round  and  yellow, 

This  funny  jack-o'-lantern. 

[Boys  hold  in  view  the  completed  jack-o'-lanterns.  School 
sings  to  tune  of  "Old  Oaken  Bucket."] 

Then  here's  to  the  lantern,  the  plump  pumpkin  lantern, 
The  old  jack-o'-lantern  we  all  love  so  well! 

X. — Song  :     "Three  Maids  of  a  Housekeeping  Turn."    By  Three 
Girls. 

[Three  girls  enter  carrying  breadpans,  spoons  and  recipe- 
book.  They  sit  on  front  of  stage,  put  pans  on  their  laps,  and  sing 
the  folloiving  song,  the  other  girls  eagerly  watching  them.] 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRA  TIONS 

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THANKSGIVING   CELEB R A  TIONS 


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86  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

All:  Listen  and  learn  from  us  what  we  tell, — oh, 

Choose  out  a  pumpkin  big  and  yellow, 
Left  till  the  sunshine  made  it  mellow, 
Use  it  for  pumpkin-pies. 

[All  trip  out.] 

XL— Recitation  :     "Three  Little  Cooks."     By  Three  Girls. 

[Three  girls  enter  dressed  as  cooks,  each  carrying  a  huge 
pumpkin-pie.  ] 

Three  Little  Cooks 


All  Three  Girls. 

Three  little  cooks  are  we, 

We  bring  our  pies  for  you  to  see. 
First  Girl. 

I  rolled  the  crust  all  smooth  and  thin, 

And  crimped  the  edges  around  the  tin. 
Second  Girl. 

I  mixed  the  pumpkin  sweet  and  nice, 

And  sprinkled  in  the  fragrant  spice. 
Third  Girl. 

I  baked  it  till  it  was  golden  brown, 

The  finest  pumpkin-pie  in  town. 

[All  on  platform  cluster  about  the  three  little  cooks,  in  atti- 
tudes pleading  for  a  piece  of  pie.    The  little  cooks  hold  pies  high.] 

[All  sing:     Tune:     "Old  Oaken  Bucket."] 

The  big  pie  of  pumpkin,  of  golden  brown  pumpkin, 
Please  give  me  a  piece  of  the  big  pumpkin-pie. 

[All  kneel  around  cooks  who  hold  pies  aloft.] 

[While  all  are  kneeling  ten  small  children  enter,  each  with  a 
card.  As  each  child  enters  it  recites  a  stanza,  takes  a  position  so 
as  to  form  a  line  just  behind  the  kneeling  girls  and  the  cooks,  and 
holds  the  letter  well  in  view.  When  all  ten  children  have  entered 
and  their  letters  spell  "PUMPKIN-PIE,"  children  all  shout,  "Ah! 
the  lovely  pumpkin-pie!"  The  cooks  slyly  slip  away;  the  kneel- 
ing children  quickly  follow  and  the  Acrostic  Children  follow  last.] 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  87 

XII. — Acrostic  :     "Pumpkin-Pie." 

Pumpkin-Pie— Acrostic 


P  is  for  Polly, 

So  happy  and  gay, 
Who  planted  some  seed 
One  sunny  spring  day. 

XJ  is  for  Uncle, 

Who  worked  with  the  hoe. 
He  cared  for  the  plants, 
And  helped  them  to  grow. 

M  is  for  Marjorie, 

Who  saw  the  big  leaves, 
And  bright  yellow  bud 
Which  hid  underneath. 

P  is  for  Philip, 

Who  quickly  did  run 
To  tell  of  the  flower, 
As  bright  as  the  sun. 

K  is  for  Kitty, 

Who  first  told  us  all, 
She  saw  a  green  pumpkin, 
So  round  and  so  small. 

I  is  for  Ira; 

A  wee  little  fellow, 
•Who  saw  the  green  turning, 
And  said,  "  Tis  all  yellow.'1 

JJ  is  for  Nora, 

Who  said  it  was  time 
To  bring  in  the  pumpkin, 
Ere  frost  killed  the  vine. 


88  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

P  is  for  Papa, 

Who  late  in  the  fall, 
Paraded  the  treasure 

Through  kitchen  and  hall. 

I  is  for  Ida, 

Our  good-natured  cook, 
Who'd  rather  do  baking 
Than  read  from  a  book. 

E   is  for  Every 

Dear  girl  and  boy, 
Who  greets  her  good  pies 
With  gladness  and  joy. 

Kill. — Quotations:     "The  Feast  Time  of  the  Year."    By  Five 
Children. 

The  Feast  Time  of  the  Year 


By  Dora  Reed  GoodaeE. 


First-  Child. 

This  is  the  feast  time  of  the  year 

When  hearts  grow  warm  and  home  more  dear; 

When  autumn's  crimson  torch  expires, 

To  flash  again  in  winter's  fires. 

This  is  the  feast  time  of  the  year, 

When  Plenty  pours  her  wine  of  cheer; 

Let  rich  and  poor  together  break 

The  bread  of  love  for  Christ's  sweet  sake. 

Second  Child. 

Harvest  is  come.    The  bins  are  full, 

The  barns  are  running  o'er ; 
Both  grains  and  fruits  we've  garnered  in 

Till  we've  no  space  for  more. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  89 

We've  worked  and  toiled  through  heat  and  cold 

To  plant,  to  sow,  to  reap ; 
And  now  for  all  this  bounteous  store 

Let  us  Thanksgiving  keep. 

Third  Child. 

Then  lift  up  the  head  with  a  song! 

And  lift  up  the  hand  with  a  gift ! 
To  the  ancient  Giver  of  old 

The  spirit  in  gratitude  lift ! 
For  the  joy  and  the  promise  of  spring, 

For  the  hay  and  the  clover  sweet, 
The  barley,  the  rye,  and  the  oats, 

The  rice,  and  the  corn,  and  the  wheat; 
The  cotton,  and  sugar,  and  fruit, 

The  flowers  and  the  fine  honeycomb, 
The  country,  so  fair  and  so  free, 

The  blessing  and  glory  of  home. 

Fourth  Child. 

Not  for  broad  lands  and  gold,  I  wis, 

Fat  crops  and  ripening  weather; 
Our  fathers  in  the  wilderness 

Knelt  and  praised  God  together : 
When  the  grim  forest's  icy  bound 
With  hardships  hemmed  the  wanderers  'round, 

When  dangers  lurked  behind, — 
Nay,  in  death's  very  teeth,  they  found 

Faith  and  a  thankful  mind. 

Fifth  Child. 

Great  God !  we  thank  Thee  for  this  home, 

This  bounteous  birth-land  of  the  free; 
Where  wanderers  from  afar  may  come 

And  breathe  the  air  of  liberty  \ 


90  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Still  may  her  flowers  untrammeled  spring, 

Her  harvests  wave,  her  cities  rise: 
And  yet,  till  Time  shall  fold  her  wing 

Remain  Earth's  loveliest  paradise. 

[All  children  join  hands  and  recite.] 

Now  is  the  time  to  forget  all  your  cares, 

Cast  every  trouble  away; 
Think  of  your  blessings,  remember  your  joys, 

Don't  be  afraid  to  be  gay! 
None  are  too  old  and  none  are  too  young 

To  frolic  on  Thanksgiving  Day. 

[As  these  five  children  exit  in  dignified  fashion,  a  very  small 
boy  enters,  looks  at  the  others  and  recites  as  he  walks  along. ] 

XIV. — Recitation  :     "  T  hanks givin' ."    By  Very  Small  Boy. 

Thanksgivin' 


By  Bud  Smith. 


White  Meat,  Dark  Meat, 

Punkin  Pie, 
Turkey  Stuffin' 

Piled  sky-high; 
Giblets  Gravy, 

Three  kinds  o'  cake — 
Jelly,  Chalklut, 
'N'  Stom'c-ake, 
No  School  Friday, 

Got  a  Gun, — 
Ain't  Thanksgivin' 

Lots  of  Fun? 

[As  this  boy  exits,  next  small  boy  is  coming  in.  On  reach- 
ing stage  front  center,  he  addresses  his  lines  to  audience;  looks 
questioningly  at  them  and  exits,  slowly  shaking  his  head.] 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  91 

XV.— Recitation  :    "Why?"    By  Very  Small  Boy. 

Why? 


I've  noticed  on  Thanksgiving  Day, 
With  strangers  or  my  own  folks, 

That  little  boys   can  always   eat 

A  great  deal  more  than  grown  folks, 

Of  turkey  or  of  pumpkin-pie — 

Will  someone  please  to  tell  me  why? 

XVI. — Exercise:     "What  Bach  Is  Thankful  For."     By  Seven 
Children. 


What  Each  Is  Thankful  For 


i.    Indian  Girl. 

I'm  a  little  Indian  girl 

And  on  Thanksgiving  Day, 
I'm  thankful  for  the  plains  and  woods 

Where  I  can  run  and  play. 

2.  Puritan  Maid. 

i  I'm  a  little  Puritan  maid, 

And  on  Thanksgiving  Day — 
I'm  thankful  for  the  brave,  true  men 
Who  conquered  every  foe. 

3.  Modern  Maid. 

I've  read  of  many  little  girls, 
Who  lived  in  many  a  clime, 

But  I  am  thankful  that  I  live 
Just  at  this  present  time. 

[Little  girls  all  make  abrupt  bows  and  run  off  together."] 


92  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

4.     Six-year-old  Boy. 

I'm  thankful  that  I'm  six  years  old, 

And  that  I've  left  off  dresses ; 
And  that  I've  had  my  curls  cut  off, — 

Some  people  call  'em  tresses. 
Such  things  were  never  meant  for  boys  ;— 

Horrid  dangling,  tangling  curls — 
They  go  quite  well  with  dress  and  sash: 

They  are  just  the  thing  for  girls. 

I'm  thankful  I've  got  pockets  four, 

Tho'  they're  almost  too  small 
To  hold  the  things  I  want  to  keep ; — 

Some  strings,  knife,  top,  and  ball. 
I'm  thankful  that  we're  going  to  have, 

All  my  folks  and  I, 
Just  a  jolly  dinner  to-day, 

With  turkey  and  mince  pie. 

O,  one  thing  more,  my  mamma  says, 

And  what  she  says  is  true ; 
'Tis  God  who  gives  us  everything, 

And  keeps  and  loves  us  too. 
And  so  I  thank  Him  very  much 

For  all  that  I  enjoy ; 
And  hope  that  next  Thanksgiving  Day 

Will  find  a  better  boy. 


5.     Small  Girl. 


(Poem :"  Thankful  For  What?" 
By  Frances  Meacham.) 

What  am  I  thankful  for? 

vWhy,  don't  you  know? 
Thankful  to  live, 

And  thankful  to  grow; 
Thankful  for  feeling, 

And  hearing,  and  sight; 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  93 

Thankful  for  playing 

From  morning  till  night; 
Thankful  for  bread 

And  butter,  and  milk ; 
Thankful  for  clothes 

Tho'  not  made  of  silk; 
Thankful  for  father, 

And  thankful  for  mother, 
But  most  of  all 

For  the  dear  little  brother. 


6.     Six-year-old  Boy. 


(Poem:  "  Tommy's  Thanksgiving." 
By  Elizabeth  H.  Thomas.) 

I'm  thankful  for  a  lot  of  things: 

I'm  thankful  I'm  alive, 
I'm  thankful  that  I'm  six  years  old, 

Instead  of  only  five. 
I'm  thankful  for  my  tops  and  toys 

And  for  my  Kitty  Gray; 
I'm  thankful  for  the  big  outdoors 

Where  I  can  run  and  play. 
I'm  thankful  for  the  things  that  grow, 

The  apples — aren't  they  good? 
The  corn  where  we  played  hide-and-seek, 

As  in  a  little  wood. 

I'm  thankful  for  the  pumpkins  round, 

Just  like  a  golden  ball, 
And  jack-o'-lanterns,  big  and  queer, 

They  don't  scare  me  at  all. 
I'm  thankful  for  Thanksgiving  Day, 

For  pies  all  in  a  row ; 
I'm  thankful  grandma  made  them  sweet, 

She  knows  I  like  them  so. 


94  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

I'm  thankful  for  the  turkey,  too, 
How  brown  it  is  and  nice! 

And  I'd  be  very  thankful,  please, 
For  only  one  more  slice. 


7.    Small  Girl. 


(Poem:  "  Kitty's  Thanksgiving." 
By  Mabel  Packard.) 


Little  Kitty,  are  you  thankful 

For  the  things  you  have  to  eat, 
For  the  turkey  bones  and  gravy, 

For  the  milk  and  custard  sweet, 
For  the  bed  out  in  the  sunshine 

I  have  made  so  soft  for  you — 
Kitty,  do  you  s'pose  you're  thankful? 

You  must  purr  and  say  you  do. 

Long  ago  my  people,  Kitty, 

Came  and  made  Thanksgiving  day, 
And  you  couldn't  have  this  dinner 

If  we  hadn't  come  to  stay. 
Savages  in  paint  and  feathers 

Might  have  now  belonged  to  you. 
Kitty,  do  you  s'pose  you're  thankful? 

You  must  purr  and  say  you  do. 

I  have  worked  for  you,  my  Kitty, 

Kept  the  naughty  boys  away, 
Warmed  your  milk  and  fed  you  catnip, 

Thought  about  you  night  and  day. 
Lots  of  little  cats  are  homeless 

That  are  just  as  good  as  you — 
Kitty,  do  you  s'pose  you're  thankful? 

How  you  purr!    I  know  you  do. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  95 

XVII. — Song  :     "Thanksgiving  Song."    By  Entire  School. 


Thanksgiving  Song 


First,  a  bit  of  springtime,Green  leaves  over  head, 

Then  a  bit  of  summer,   With  its  sun  and  showers 

Next  a  bit  of  autumn,  Crimson  skies    a-bove — 

Last,  a  bit  of  win-ter,  Time    of   gay  good  cheer; 


Birds  that  sing  and  buds  that  spring,  All  in  white  and  red. 
Days  a-glow  that  bud  and  blow  Sweet  as  fragrant  flowers. 
Reddened  leaves  and  ripened  sheaves — Little  songs  of  love. 
Seasons  small — it  takes  them  all,  To  make  one  glad  year. 

Chorus.  w  .  w 

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To  the  kind  All  -  Fa-ther,  On  Thanksgiving  Day, 


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For  the  hap-py,  hap-py  year,Thank  you,now,we  say. 


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PART  V. 

Thanksgiving  Selections 


PART  V. 

Recitations 


PAGE 

Around  Thanksgiving  Time..  188 

Child's  Thanksgiving 163 

Country  Thanksgiving 177 

Elder   Sniffles's  Thanksgiving 

Dinner 150 

Farmer  John's  Thanksgiving . .  154 
First  Thanksgiving  (poem)  ...  158 
First     Thanksgiving     (mono- 
logue)    99 

Five  Kernels  of  Corn in 

Freedom's  Thanksgiving  Day.  156 

Give  Thanks 178 

Gossip  of  the  Nuts 168 

His  Riches 176 

His  Thanksgiving  Dream 132 

Home  for  Thanksgiving 122 

I'll  Be  at  Home  Thanksgiving..  141 

Ingin  Summer 144 

John  White's  Thanksgiving. . .  164 

Little  Turkey  Gobbler 122 

"Makin'  Things  A-Purpose  to 

Be  Et" 186 

Miner's  Thanksgiving 148 

My  Thanksgiving 103 

"  My  Tumick's  Got  a  Pain". . .  159 

Neddie's  Thanksgiving  Visit. .  117 

Night  Before  Thanksgiving. . .  171 

Pessimistic  Gratitude 140 

Pumpkin-Pie 128 

Reasons  for  Thanks 130 

Signs  of  the  Times 169 

Tanksgibbin  Turkey 167 

Thank  the   Creator,   Not    the 

Created 175 


PAGE 

Thankful  Frog  and  Unthankful 

Cat igg 

Thanksgiving 166 

Thanksgiving 147 

Thanksgiving 104 

Thanksgiving 124 

Thanksgiving  (acrostic) 191 

Thanksgiving  at  the  Farm 137 

Thanksgiving  Chicken 165 

Thanksgiving  Day 135  , 

Thanksgiving  Dinner 120 

Thanksgiving  Gourmand 143 

Thanksgiving  in  Old  Virginia.    185 
Thanksgiving  in  the  Gold  Dig- 
gings     106 

Thanksgiving  Legend 128 

Thanksgiving  Lesson 133 

Thanksgiving  Magician 104 

Thanksgiving  on  Herring  Hill.  112 
Thanksgiving     Ride     of     the 

Pumpkins 118 

Thanksgiving  Sermon. .......    146 

Thanksgiving  Song  for  Little 

Folks 184 

Thanksgiving  Story 125 

Thanksgiving,  Then  and  Now 

(play) 181 

Thanksgiving  Toasts 192 

Thanksgiving  Wooing 173 

Tit  for  Tat 161 

Tommybob's  Thanksgiving 

Vision 1 09 

Tommy's  Dinner 179 

Turkey  of  Life 163 

Where  the  Mince-Pie  Grows  . .   119 


PART  V. 

Thanksgiving  Selections 


The  First  Thanksgiving 

Monologue  for  a  Woman 


By  Paueine  A.  Bristow. 


[Adapted  from  Jane  Austin's  "  Standish  of  Standish."] 

Scene  :     The  great  cooking  room  at  Plymouth. 
Characters:     Priscilea  MuleEns  in  Puritan  garb;  John 
Alden  and  others  supposed  to  be  present. 

Nay,  then,  John,  thy  look  is  so  serious  that  I  must  e'en  try  to 
lighten  it  by  a  rare  bit  of  news ; — 'Governor  Bradford  hath  re- 
solved upon  a  day,  or  rather  a  week,  of  holiday  and  of  thanksgiv- 
ing for  the  mercies  God  hath  showed  us.  Think  of  it,  John !  A 
whole  week  of  feasting  and  holiday !  Nay,  stop  not  to  answer ;  I 
can  not  listen ;  for  they  look  to  me  for  the  marchpanes  and  man- 
chets  and  plum-porridge  and  all  manner  of  tasty  cates,  not  to  speak 
of  possets. 

And  the  Indians  have  been  invited  to  take  part  in  our  feast; 
dost  see  them  yonder  by  the  fire  at  the  head  of  Middle  Street? 
Massasoit  and  Quadequina  and  a  dozen  others,  all  looking  as  dig- 
nified as  if  they  were  akin  to  the  good  Monarch  over  the  seas.  See 
how  Massasoit  is  talking  to  that  big  chieftain  who  was  never  here 
before;  I  fancy  I  hear  his. low  gutturals!  I'll  be  bound  he  is  ex- 
plaining that  by  this  feast  the  white  men  propitiate  the  Great  Spirit 
and  engage  him  both  to  prosper  them  and  kill  their  enemies. 

Ah !  here  come  Mary  Chilton  and  Desire  Minter  and  Elizabeth 
Tilley.  To  work,  girls !  Spread  the  long  table  in  the  open  air  for 
the  men,  and  make  ready  the  wooden  bowls  of  butter  and  treacle 
and  clam  chowder.  Know  you  how  to  soak  the  sea-biscuit  in 
broth?     Brave  girls!     Fetch  the  pieces  of  cold  boiled  beef  and 


100  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

have  plenty  of  mustard.  Here  are  the  turnips,  and  I  know  who 
loves  them,  eh,  John?  There  is  but  one  thing  thou  lov'st  better? 
I'll  thank  thee,  John  Alden,  not  to  stand  staring  at  me  as  if  thou 
hadst  never  seen  me  before,  but  carry  these  white  and  purple 
grapes  and  luscious  plums  to  Dame  Brewster.  Watch  thy  steps, 
for  I  want  the  dear  mother  to  have  them  all. 

Deary  me,  girls,  do  hear  those  Indians  whoop !  If  they  eat  as 
much  as  they  yell,  we  shall  have  little  to  spare.  What's  that,  Mary? 
A  bushel  of  popcorn  which  Quadequina  brought?  I  have  ever 
averred  that  kindness  dwelt  in  his  dusky  bosom.  Ah,  how  good 
it  is !  Don't  give  it  all  to  Elizabeth  Chilton,  John  Howland ;  she 
might  break  her  teeth  on  it. 

What,  John  Alden,  back  already !  Didst  give  the  grapes  and 
plums  to  Dame  Brewster  and  not  drop  them  by  the  way?  But 
sure,  lad,  thou  didst  not  tarry  for  her  thanks.  Such  haste  will  be 
thy  ruin  some  day.  Thou  feared'st  that  I  might  need  thee  ?  Well, 
well,  thou  think'st  thou  art  of  some  importance  in  this  world.  Did 
I  ever  say  that  I  needed  thee? 

Bestir  yourselves,  girls ;  blithely,  blithely,  dear  ones,  and  later 
we  will  don  our  dainty  toggery.  What  say  you  to  some  ells  of 
spanwide  lace  to  trim  our  Sunday  kirtles?  Think  you  that  Mis- 
tress Winslow  would  tear  it  away  with  her  own  fingers  ?  Think'st 
not,  John?  Why,  prithee?  Because  Master  Winslow  himself 
weareth  cambric  ruffs  on  occasion  ?  And  his  dame  hath  a  paduasoy 
kirtle  and  mantle  ?  Marry,  come  up !  How  wise  the  lad  hath 
grown !  Hast  been  pondering  women's  clothes  instead  of  the 
books  Captain  Standish  gives  thee  to  study? 

Deary  me !  if  I  had  but  some  Spanish  chestnuts  to  stuff  these 
turkeys,  they  might  seem  more  like  their  brethren  across  the  seas. 
Yes,  John,  I  agree  that  their  flavor  is  better,  and  their  size  finer. 
Now,  if  this  one  were  but  a  goose,  I  would  name  it  John,  'twould 
be  so  prodigious  a  goose  !  Come,  come,  stand  not  there  idle ;  there 
is  much  to  do,  and  scant  time  to  talk  of  it.  I  must  have  wood  and 
water  galore  to  make  meat  for  a  hundred  men.  So  stir  thyself! 
Why  not  stuff  the  turkeys  with  beechnuts?     You  have  store  of 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  101 

them  at  your  cottage  ?  How  came  they  there  ?  Doth  our  doughty 
Captain  Standish  go  bird's-nesting  and  nutting  in  his  by-times? 
Well,  John  Alden,  if  thou  gathered'st  those  nuts  for  me,  why  have 
I  not  seen  them?  Thou  feared'st  I'd  flout  thee?  Oh,  sure,  never 
was  a  poor  maid  so  bestead  with  blind  men !  Hast  not  discovered 
ere  this  how  I  dote  upon  beechnuts  ?  There !  get  thee  gone  for  them. 

My  sweet  Elizabeth,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  those  great  clam 
and  scallop  shells!  John  Howland  presented  them  to  thee?  My 
blessing  on  him.  They're  just  the  things  for  my  oyster-compote. 
We'll  set  them  in  the  ashes  to  roast,  and  in  a  twinkling  we'll  have  a 
toothsome  dainty !  'Twill  be  a  novelty  and  will  set  off  the  board 
famously.  And  yon  dishes  of  salad  with  autumn  leaves  twined 
around  them  will  make  a  picture  long  to  be  had  in  mind.  And  we 
must  have  plentiful  flagons  of  ale ;  the  poor  men  are  aweary  with 
work  and  needs  must  have  potations ;  my  thanks  to  the  Indians  for 
teaching  us  to  flavor  with  sassafras ;  it  improves  the  drink  vastly. 

Ah !  here  thou  art,  John,  with  the  nuts,  and  a  beautiful  supply 
thou  hast.  Whenever  I  use  beechnuts  with  my  turkeys  after  this, 
I'll  call  it  goose-dressing  in  honor  of  thee,  John !  Lad,  lad,  that 
serious  face  pleases  me  not;  I  like  sunshine  in  face  as  well  as  in 
sky.  Thou  hast  something  to  say  to  me?  A  bad  time  to  say  any- 
thing of  consequence,  but  say  on  while  I  work.  What  thou  hast  to 
say  is  for  my  ear  alone !  And  exp'ect'st  to  be  humored  ?  I  have 
noted  that  if  thou  canst  drive  a  bashful  youth  out  of  his  bashful- 
ness,  there  are  no  bounds  to  his  forwardness.  But  be  it  as  thou 
wilt.  Maids,  maids !  will  you  run  to  the  Common-house,  and  set 
the  table  there  for  the  women  and  children  ?  There  they  go,  but  I 
fear  me  the  table  will  be  all  awry.  Now,  Master  John  Alden,  have 
thy  say  and  be  done. 

What !  thou  art  sent  to  me  with  a  proffer  of  marriage !  Thou 
art  sent,  John  Alden!  Who  sent  thee?  Captain  Miles  Standish? 
Indeed !  And  was  it  too  much  honor  to  a  poor  maid  for  him  to 
do  his  own  errand?  John  Alden,  art  thou  and  thy  master  joined 
in  league  to  flout  and  insult  me,  an  orphaned  maid?  He  spoke  to 
my  father  before  he  died  of  a  marriage  in  time  to  come  between 


102  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

him  and  me  ?  And  he  feared  his  silence  might  seem  to  me  to  be  a 
want  of  eagerness  on  his  part  ?  Ay,  I  see !  He  feared  that  I  was 
angered  that  he  had  not  wooed  me  across  his  wife's  and  my 
father's  graves,  and  so  thrust  thee  forward  to  bear  the  first  out- 
burst of  my  fury !  'Twas  kindly  thought  on,  if  not  over-valiant, 
and  'tis  an  honorable,  a  noble  office  for  thee,  John,  who  hast  at  odd 
times  thrown  me  a  soft  word  thyself.  Oh,  yes,  that's  all  very  well ! 
Thou  say'st  I  know  that  thou  lov'st  me  as  blind  men  love  sight 
and  dying  men  water,  and  so  on.  Then  why  don't  you  speak  for 
yourself,  John?  But  honor  is  a  great  thing  with  thee,  and  I  know 
thou  wilt  not  speak  till  thou  hast  delivered  the  message  thou  wast 
commissioned  to  bring.  Yes,  I  know  Captain  Miles  Standish 
comes  of  noble  lineage ;  that  among  his  ancestors  are  men  of  brave 
deeds  and  proud  achievements ;  and  that  among  them  hath  never 
risen  a  braver  or  a  nobler  or  a  more  honorable  man  than  he  who 
now  woos  me.  Did  he  bid  thee  say  all  that,  or  is  it  thy  loyalty  to 
a  friend  that  forces  thee  to  speak  him  so  fair?  I  know  his  name 
is  unstained,  and  he  offers  it  to  me.  He  offers  me  some  coat- 
armor,  a  long  lineage,  and  courage,  both  ancestral  and  personal, 
and — what  else?  I  forget,  but  surely  there  was  no  love  among 
these  commodities.  Didst  drop  it  by  the  way,  or  did  the  Captain 
forget  to  send  it?  Hast  done?  Hast  said  all  thy  say ?  Then  listen 
to  me ;  clear  thy  memory  and  make  room  for  my  answer.  Oh, 
thou  know'st  how  to  dress  an  unwelcome  message  in  comely 
phrase  better  than  any  other  man  of  mine  acquaintance,  so  try  thy 
skill  on  simple  No,  for  'tis  all  I  have  to  say. 

And  now,  having  done  thy  duty,  why  stand'st  thou  there  look- 
ing at  me  with  eyes  sad  as  sorrow?  I  am  aweary  of  thee,  John 
Alden,  and  fain  would  be  alone,  so  I  wish  thee  Godspeed  and  a 
keener  wit. 

Still  here?  Will— I— be— thy— wife !! !  Nay,  then,  John, 
why  didst  not  ask  that  at  first,  rather  than  at  last?  Thou  art  too 
fond  of  quip  and  quirk  and  wordy  warfare,  John  Alden ;  too  much 
given  to  fence  and  intrigue.  Again  the  same  words?  Nay,  I 
never  could  bear  a  cuckoo-song  all  on  two  notes,  and  if  thou  art 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  103 

bound  to  say  that  phrase  over  and  over  till  'tis  answered — .  What ! 
again  and  yet  again?  How  can  I  see  my  work  if  thou  stand'st  so 
near?  Well,  then, — yes,  John,  I  will  be  thy  wife,  and  now  I  hope 
thou  art  content !  Oh,  don't,  don't,  John,  for  shame !  What  would 
Mistress  Winslow  say? 


My  Thanksgiving 


By  Arthur  Goodenough. 


I  am  glad  that  I  believe  there  is  a  God, 

And  glad  that  I  believe  in  a  hereafter; 
That  I  accept  His  reasonable  Word 

And  base  my  hope  upon  it. 
And  glad  that  I  believe  that  God  is  good, 

That  out  of  love  He  shared  with  man  His  being; 
Breathed  His  own  soul  into  the  clay  that  He 

Had  fashioned  in  His  image. 
I  am  glad  that  I  believe  in  Him  through  all, 

And  though  I  sin  and  suffer  ill  thereafter, 
When  all  is  said,  and  all  has  been  summed  up 

My  faith  remains  unshaken. 
I  am  glad  my  creed  is  something  more  divine 

Than  one  of  merely  human  composition; 
And  writ  in  stars,  in  continents  and  clouds, 

And  in  the  heart  of  nature ! 
I  am  glad  that  I  refuse,  rebuke,  repulse 

The  words  of  atheists  and  evil  doers 
And  shun  the  babblings  of  evil  men, 

Which  savor  of  destruction! 
And  though  I  feel  the  need  of  many  things, 

That  serve  to  make  the  wheels  of  life  run  smoother, 
Still  shines  the  Light  of  Life  upon  my  path, 

And  lamps  my  feet  forever ! 


104  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Thanksgiving 


For  the  hay  and  the  corn  and  the  wheat  that  is  reaped, 
For  the  labor  well  done,  and  the  barns  that  are  heaped, 
For  the  sun  and  the  dew  and  the  sweet  honey-comb, 
For  the  rose  and  the  song  and  the  harvest  brought  home — 
Thanksgiving !   Thanksgiving ! 

For  the  trade  and  the  skill  and  the  wealth  in  our  land, 
For  the  cunning  and  strength  of  the  workingman's  hand, 
For  the  good  that  our  artists  and  poets  have  taught 
For  the  friendship  that  hope  and  affection  have  brought — 
Thanksgiving !   Thanksgiving ! 

For  the  homes  that  with  purest  affection  are  blest, 
For  the  season  of  plenty  and  well-deserved  rest, 
For  our  country  extending  from  sea  to  sea, 
The  land  that  is  known  as  the  "Land  of  the  Free !" 
Thanksgiving !   Thanksgiving ! 


The  Thanksgiving  Magician 


By  Rose  Terry  Cooke. 


I  dreamed  a  dream,  such  a  wonderful  dream 

Come  listen,  my  little  lad ! 
A  dream  so  living  about  Thanksgiving 

It  made  me  sad  and  glad. 

I  thought  that  I  saw  a  table  spread 

In  a  low  and  narrow  room, 
Its  boards  were  bare,  and  the  men  that  were  there 

Wore  looks  of  care  and  gloom. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  105 

There  were  women,  too,  so  pale  and  thin 

That  my  heart  ached  in  my  breast, 
And  children  so  quiet !     No  merry  riot, 

No  laughter,  song,  or  jest. 

There  were  trenchers  on  the  table  set, 

And  pitchers  of  water  fair. 
But  for  all  the  feast  for  greatest  and  least 

What  do  you  think  was  there  ? 

By  every  plate  five  grains  of  corn, 

Five  kernels  and  no  more ; 
Five  kernels  of  corn  was  that  dinner  forlorn, 

For  I  counted  them  o'er  and  o'er. 

The  reverend  men  they  said  a  prayer, 

And  long  they  thanked  the  Lord, 
For  this  that  was  left  for  them  bereft 

Of  all  but  His  Holy  Word. 

Then  while  I  looked  with  wonder  sore 

I  saw  the  oddest  sprite 
Glide  softly  round,  without  a  sound; 

But  none  of  them  saw  the  sight. 

A  scythe  across  his  shoulder  hung, 

And  he  touched  each  crispy  grain. 
One  turned  to  a  pie  all  crusted  high, 

But  how  I  can  never  explain. 

Another  swelled  to  a  turkey  brown, 

And  some  to  joints  of  meat. 
There  was  boiled,  and  roast,  and  quails  on  toast, 

And  all  good  things  to  eat.  • 


106  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

The  dames  who  wore  their  kirtles  of  gray- 
In  velvet  swept  the  ground, 

And  girls  and  boys  with  merry  noise 
Made  all  the  house  resound. 

And  "Oh!"  I  said,  in  a  whisper  small, 
"Good  elf  with  the  scythe  and  glass, 

Thou  doest  well,  but  thy  name  pray  tell, 
And  how  this  cometh  to  pass !" 

He  smiled  and  sighed  and  smiled  again, 
And  his  voice  like  a  Christmas  chime 

Said :  "I  am  a  seer,  I  work  wonders  here ; 
Mortal !  my  name  is  Time." 

Then  listen  and  learn,  my  little  lad : 
Though  troubles  and  years  increase, 

Life  is  worth  living ;  so  keep  Thanksgiving, 
For  time  brings  plenty  and  peace. 


A  Thanksgiving  In  the  Gold  Diggings 


By  Elus  Proctor. 


It  was  Thanksgiving  night  at  Rainy  Lake.  The  wind  shrieked 
outside  of  the  Lake  House,  but  little  was  it  heeded  by  the  hilarious 
crowd  within. 

"Here's  to  you,  Kimball !  Give  us  another  story !"  they 
shouted,  as  they  emptied  their  glasses  at  a  draught. 

"Well,  boys,  if  you  will  have  it,  here  goes.  It  was  in  '49  that 
my  brother  and  I  left  our  home  in  a  little  town  in  Massachusetts, 
and  set  out  for  the  gold-fields  in  California. 

"Just  before  the  gold  fever  took  possession  of  my  brother,  he 
became  engaged  to  a  neighbor's  daughter  who  looked  with  little 
favor  upon  his  'fool's  errand/  as  she  called  it.     However,  she 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  107 

finally  gave  her  consent  to  his  going,  agreeing  to  wait  one  year  for 
him  to  return  and  marry  her;  but  before  we  had  been  gone  six 
months  we  learned  that  my  brother's  promised  wife  had  married 
another  man. 

"Well,  up  to  the  time  my  brother  received  the  unwelcome 
news  from  home,  we  worked  our  claim  almost  day  and  night,  and 
had  salted  down  several  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  dust;  but  that 
letter  meant  ruin  to  my  brother,  and  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and 
anxiety  for  me.    Ben " 

"What's  the  matter  there,  you  old  scarecrow  ?  Boys,  I  believe 
this  old  duffer's  as  loony  as  a  sun-struck  owl,"  said  Dejerio,  the 
proprietor,  as  he  lifted  an  old,  decrepit  man  to  his  seat  on  a  beer- 
keg  from  which  he  had  just  fallen.  "He's  been  winkin'  an'  blinkin' 
at  Kimball  for  the  last  ten  minutes,  an'  startin'  an'  jumpin'  like  a 
man  in  his  sleep.  Go  ahead  there,  Kimball,  an'  you,  old  chap,  get- 
er-brace  on  yerself  an'  keep  quiet." 

"As  I  was  going  to  say,"  resumed  Kimball,  "Ben  lost  his 
interest  in  the  mine,  and  would  knock  off  work  for  a  week  or  two 
at  a  time  and  tramp  about  from  one  place  to  another  till  he  got 
broke,  and  then  come  back  and  work  right  smart  for  a  few  days, 
and  then  off  again.  Ben  had  never  been  a  drinking  man,  and 
I  never  knew  him  to  touch  a  pack  of  cards  in  the  old  days  at 
home ;  but  after  his  trouble  began  the  hardest  kind  of  tanglefoot 
that  they  had  at  the  diggings — and  three  fingers  of  some  of  it  was 
pretty  sure  death — wasn't  any  too  strong  for  him,  and  many  a 
time  did  I  drag  him  away  from  the  card-table  at  two  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"Hi,  there !  you  lunatic,"  broke  in  Dejerio.  "What's  you 
talkin'  'bout  now?" 

"Oh,  he  ain't  sayin'  nothin'  but,  'that's  so,'  "  said  Bill,  a 
gambler  who  stood  near  the  beer-keg. 

"And  the  strangest  part  of  it  was,"  Kimball  went  on,  "that, 
although  he  didn't  know  anything  about  cards,  if  there  was  a  big 
pot  of  dust  on  the  table,  he  always  won.  He  didn't  care  any  more 
about  the  gold  than  as  though  it  was  so  much  tin,  but  he  just  loved 


108  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

the  excitement  of  winning  it.  All  that  he  lived  for  was  excite- 
ment— anything  to  make  him  forget  his  troubles. 

"One  Sunday  afternoon  there  were  about  forty  of  us  crowded 
around  the  tables  in  Dead-shot  Dick's  parlor.  The  parlor  opened 
out  of  the  bar,  and  more  hard  liquor  went  over  that  threshold  in 
an  hour  than  Rainy  Lake  has  seen  yet.  Everybody  was  flush,  and 
nearly  everybody  had  taken  more  liquor  than  was  good  for  him. 
Before  night,  I  think  without  any  question  that  nine-tenths  of 
the  money  in  that  room  had  shifted  into  the  hands  of  two  sharp- 
ers, the  only  ones  in  the  crowd  who  had  kept  sober  and  knew  what 
they  were  about.  Up  to  this  time  my  brother  had  taken  no  part  in 
the  games,  but  as  the  sharpers'  last  victim  left  his  chair,  my 
brother  took  his  seat,  and  placing  a  bag  containing  a  thousand 
dollars  in  gold  on  the  table,  said :  'Cover  that,  boys,  and  the  best 
man  wins.' 

"With  a  sly  glance  at  each  other  the  two  sharpers  accepted 
the  challenge,  and  passed  the  cards  to  my  brother  for  him  to  deal. 
As  he  was  shuffling  the  cards,  he  noticed  something  about  them 
that  aroused  his  suspicion,  and  handing  them  to  me,  he  said : 
'Here,  Will,  put  these  in  your  pocket  and  get  a  new  pack  at  the 
bar.' 

"This  move  surprised  the  sharpers  and  they  could  not  quite 
hide  their  confusion,  but  the  new  cards  were  procured,  and  the 
game  began.  It  was  plain  to  see  that  the  sharpers  were  more  or 
less  rattled,  and  my  brother  quite  easily  won  the  three  thousand 
dollars.  Handing  a  thousand  to  me,  he  let  the  rest  remain  on  the 
table  and  said  to  the  sharpers :  'Here  goes  again,  boys, — my  pile 
against  yours.'  But  they  didn't  like  risking  all  they  had  on  one 
game,  and  wanted  to  make  it  an  even  thousand  apiece.  'Whole 
hog  or  none,'  said  my  brother  as  he  made  a  motion  as  if  to  take 
away  his  winnings,  and  the  sharpers,  seeing  that  he  meant  what 
he  said,  gave  in. 

"Talk  about  excitement !  Why,  the  bar  didn't  do  any  busi- 
ness for  the  next  twenty  minutes.  Every  man  of  them  was  watch- 
ing that  game  as  though  somebody's  life,  instead  of  a  few  thou- 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  109 

sand  dollars,  was  at  stake.  Suddenly  two  or  three  of  us  who  were 
looking  on  saw  one  of  the  sharpers  make  an  effort  to  substitute 
another  card  for  one  of  those  that  he  held  in  his  hand.  My 
brother  saw  the  movement,  too,  and  accused  the  man  of  an  at- 
tempt to  cheat.  The  sharper  pulled  his  gun,  but  Ben  was  too 
quick  for  him,  and  when  the  smoke  cleared  away  we  found  one 
sharper  stretched  out  on  the  floor,  and  the  other  had  'lit  out.'  Of 
course,  nobody  blamed  Ben  for  the  shooting,  but  he  was  terribly 
cut  up  over  it,  and  the  next  day  he  left  the  diggings  and  I  have 
never  seen  him  since." 

"Did  the  sharper  pass  in  his  checks,  or  was  he  only  winged  ?" 
asked  someone. 

"Only  winged,"  replied  Kimball,  "and  in  less  than  a  month 
he  was  well  enough  to  be  fired  out  of  town." 

The  old  man  on  the  beer-keg  had  arisen,  with  hands  uplifted, 
with  face  as  white  as  death,  and  trembling  in  every  limb,  he 
stood  with  his  staring  eyes  fixed  upon  Kimball.  "Thank  God ! 
thank  God!"  he  exclaimed,  and  falling  to  his  knees,  raised  his 
clasped  hands  before  him,  in  silent  prayer. 

The  crowd  of  rough,  careless  men  fell  away  from  the  kneel- 
ing man,  in  awe.  Even  Dejerio's  ready  tongue  was  hushed. 
Kimball,  with  a  troubled  look,  approached  the  kneeling  figure. 
Suddenly  the  old  man's  face  assumed  a  happy,  peaceful  expres- 
sion. There  was  a  slight  tremor  of  his  wornout  frame,  and  Kim- 
ball stooped  to  gaze  into  the  transfigured  face  of  his  brother 
Ben! 


Tommybob's  Thanksgiving  Vision 


By  Anna  M.  Pratt. 


It  was  Thanksgiving  evening,  and  Tommybob  slept, 
While  over  his  pillow  Thanksgiving  dreams  crept ; 
They  whispered,  the  while  he  grew  rigid  with  fear: 
"Look  out,  for  the  ghosts  of  the  slaughtered  are  near !" 


110  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Alack !  though  he  strained  and  he  struggled  to  rise, 
He  was  held  down  by  pickles  of  marvelous  size, 
That  stood  like  policemen  each  side  of  his  bed, 
With  revolvers  of  cinnamon  aimed  at  his  head. 

Then  in  walked  a  turkey,  bespattered  with  mud, 

And  with  gobbles  which  curdled  poor  Tommybob's  blood, — 

The  lack  of  a  liver  and  a  load  of  fine  dressing 

Made  it  beat  with  its  drum-sticks  until  'twas  distressing. 

It  perched  on  the  footboard  and  whispered :  "I'll  stay 

And  hiccough,  young  man,  till  next  Thanksgiving  day." 

While  an  inward  commotion  young  Tommy  was  feeling, 

Some  celery  sprang  from  his  chest  to  the  ceiling, 

And  under  the  shade  of  its  fast-growing  trees 

A  pepper-box  waltzed  with  a  piece  of  green  cheese ; 

Fried  oysters  rode  bicycles  made  of  mince  pies, 

And  each  took  a  "header"  right  into  his  eyes ; 

A  plum  pudding  camped  on  a  terrible  ache, 

And  doubled  its  fists  at  a  large  jelly  cake ; 

While  raisins  unnumbered  fell  over  in  fits — ■ 

Which  frightened  poor  Tommybob  out  of  his  wits. 

As  the  nuts  fell  like  hail,  someone  sounded  a  gong, 
And  at  once  all  the  company  joined  in  a  song: 
"Woe,  woe  to  thee,  Tommybob !    Many  a  night 
We'll  dance  on  thy  bed  till  thou  tremblest  with  fright, 
Till  thou  learnst  that  thy  stomach  should  not  be  abused, 
For  know  that  thy  gluttony'll  not  be  excused." 

Then  at  Tommy  they  sprang.    He  uttered  a  groan, 
And,  lo !  they  all  vanished,  and  he  was  alone. 

Tommybob  has  decided  a  greedy  young  sinner 
Has  to  pay  a  big  price  for  a  Thanksgiving  dinner, 
And  that  eating  to  live  will  make  much  finer  living 
Than  living  to  eat,  as  he  did  on  Thanksgiving. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  111 

Five  Kernels  of  Corn 


By  Hezekiah  Butterworth. 


'Twas  the  year  of  the  famine  in  Plymouth  of  old, 

The  ice  and  the  snow  from  the  thatched  roofs  had  rolled. 

Through  the  warm  purple  skies  steered  the  geese  o'er  the  seas 

And  the  woodpeckers  tapped  in  the  clocks  of  the  trees; 

And  the  boughs  on  the  slopes  to  the  south  winds  lay  bare, 

And  dreaming  of  summer  the  buds  swelled  in  air. 

The  pale  Pilgrims  welcomed  each  reddening  morn ; 

There  were  left  but  for  rations  five  kernels  of  corn. 

Five  kernels  of  corn  !    Five  kernels  of  corn ! 

But  to  Bradford  a  feast  were  five  kernels  of  corn! 

"Five  kernels  of  corn  !    Five  kernels  of  corn ! 

Ye  people,  be  glad  for  five  kernels  of  corn !" 

So  Bradford  cried  out  on  bleak  Burial  Hill, 

And  the  thin  women  stood  in  their  doors  white  and  still. 

'Xo,  the  harbor  of  Plymouth  rolls  bright  in  the  spring, 

The  maples  grow  red,  and  the  wood-robins  sing, 

The  west  wind  is  blowing,  and  fading  the  snow, 

And  the  pleasant  pines  sing,  and  the  arbutuses  blow. 

Five  kernels  of  corn !     Five  kernels  of  corn ! 

To  each  one  be  given  five  kernels  of  corn !" 

O  Bradford  of  Austerfield,  haste  on  thy  way. 

The  west  winds  are  blowing  o'er  Provincetown  Bay, 

The  white  avens  bloom,  but  the  pine  domes  are  chill, 

And  new  graves  have  furrowed  Precisioners'  Hill ! 

"Give  thanks,  all  ye  people,  the  warm  skies  have  come, 
The  hilltops  are  sunny,  and  green  grows  the- holm, 
And  the  trumpets  of  winds,  and  the  white  March  is  gone, 
And  ye  still  have  left  you  five  kernels  of  corn. 
Five  kernels  of  corn !     Five  kernels  of  corn ! 
Ye  have  for  Thanksgiving  five  kernels  of  corn! 


112  THANKSGIVING    CEIEBRATIONS 

"The  raven's  gift  eat  and  be  humble  and  pray, 

A  new  light  is  breaking,  and  Truth  leads  your  way, 

One  taper  a  thousand  shall  kindle.    Rejoice 

That  to  you  has  been  given  the  wilderness  voice !" 

O  Bradford  of  Austerfield,  daring  the  wave, 

And  safe  through  the  sounding  blasts  leading  the  brave, 

Of  deeds  such  as  thine  was  the  free  nation  born, 

And  the  festal  world  sings  the  "five  kernels  of  corn." 

Five  kernels  of  corn !     Five  kernels  of  corn ! 

The  nation  gives  thanks  for  five  kernels  of  corn ! 

To  the  Thanksgiving  feast  bring  five  kernels  of  corn ! 


Thanksgiving  On  Herring  Hill 


By  Julia  M.  Tenney. 


[Cutting  from  original  story,  used  by  permission  of  the  Chautauqtian.'] 

"Good-bye,  Aunt  Susan.  Take  good  care  of  yourself  and  the 
house,  and  we  will  be  home  again  on  Saturday,"  and  Mrs.  Van 
Arsdale  drew  her  head  in  at  the  carriage  window.  The  family 
was'  off  to  take  Thanksgiving  dinner  at  the  old  homestead  ten 
miles  away. 

Aunt  Susan  stood  watching  the  departing  vehicle  till  a  cor- 
ner of  the  street  hid  it  from  view ;  then  she  began  giving  her 
orders. 

"Here  you,  Jane !  Don'  you  be'er-standin'  dar  gappin'  down 
de  street  all  day.  Don'  you  know  dis's  Thanksgibin'  day,  and 
dar'll  be  fifty  ob  de  ladies  and  gemmen  ob  our  'quaintance  here 
to-night  for  to  'joy  de  supper  we-uns  got  to  'vide?  You  go  an' 
kill  fo'  ob  dem  good  sized  hens.  Now  min'  you  don'  make  no  mis- 
take an'  git  massa's  young  chickens,  ca'se  I's  left  in  charge  ob  dis 
here  place,  an  I  ain't  gwine  'low  de  tings  what  de  fambly  prize  ter 
be  'sturbed — not  if  I  knows  it.  Here,  Patrick  Henry,  you  an' 
George  Washington  come  kerry  ebery  blessed  bit  ob  de  furniture 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  113 

cep'n'  jes'  de  table  an'  cheers  outen  dis  dinin'-room  an'  set  it  in 
de  parlor,  an'  I'll  lock  de  do'  so  dey'll  be  all  safe  an'  soun'.  Polly, 
you  come  he'p  me  beat  up  er  couple  ob  cakes  an'  some  doughnuts. 
Dis  time  las'  week  prospec's  look  mighty  black  for  dis  here  sup- 
per, but  now  de  good  Lord's  done  'ranged  eberyt'ing  jes'  right; 
de  whole  fambly  done  gone  away,  an'  dey  done  took  dat  meddlin', 
tattlin'  ole  mammy  wid  'em,  an'  my  key  jes'  fits  de  store-room 
lock,  an'  de  sunshine  ob  prosperity  is  above  us!" 

"Well,  if  here  ain'  Lindy  Jackson !  How  in  de  lan's  name 
did  she  git  here  dis  time  'er  day !" 

"How's  yer,  Miss  Lindy?  Walk  in  an'  take  a  seat.  Dat's 
a  fine  mince  pie  youse  got  dar.  I  reckon  you  run  ober  wid  it 
while  Mis'  Smith  was  down-town." 

Jane  now  returned  with  the  four  dead  chickens  which  she  be- 
gan to  pick  while  she  sang:  "I  n-e-e-d  thee  every  h-o-u-r." 

Patrick  Henry  and  George  Washington  reported  the  furni- 
ture moved,  and  were  sent  by  Aunt  Susan  on  a  collecting  tour 
to  the  various  houses  where  the  expected  guests  were  employed. 

The  first  house  they  visited  was  Dr.  Cooke's,  and  Mrs.  Sarah 
Primus,  who  attended  to  the  culinary  department  there,  was 
watching,  with  a  quart  of  beautiful,  large  oysters.  Lieutenant 
Paul's  was  the  next  kitchen  visited,  and  here  Mrs.  Mahala  Reed 
reigned  supreme  and  "nothing  was  kept  under  lock  and  key." 

At  length  the  bucket  was  about  filled  with  oysters,  while  the 
piled  market  basket  caused  some  narrow  escapes  in  its  transit  to 
the  Van  Arsdale  home,  for  the  people  were  now  coming  home 
from  the  churches. 

Evening  came  and  found  Mrs.  Susan  Washington  standing 
in  front  of  the  long  glass  in  the  large  chamber  usually  occupied  by 
the  lady  of  the  house,  holding  her  breath  till  her  eyes  literally 
bulged  from  the  sockets,  while  Jane  (who  as  supper  chambermaid 
was  supposed  to  be  an  authority  upon  toilets)  strained  till  the  belt 
of  Mrs.  Van  Arsdale's  second  best  black  silk  gave  a  warning 
crack,  in  her  efforts  to  make  it  meet  around  Aunt  Susan's  forty- 
two  inch  waist. 


114  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

"Tain'  no  use,  Mis'  Washington,  'wont  meet,  not  by  six 
inches ;  but  I  kin  jes'  pin  it  on  each  side,  and  dar's  a  han'some  pink 
sash  in  Miss  Flora's  bureau  what  I  kin  pin  ober  de  gap.  It's  er 
long  train  so  it  won'  hitch  up  much  in  de  back  nohow." 

"Yes,"  said  the  suffering  victim,  "but  what'n  de  land's  name  '11 
I  do  'bout  de  wais'  ?" 

Jane  looked  blank  for  a  moment,  but  she  stepped  to  the  ward- 
robe and  produced  a  lavendar  silk  breakfast  sacque,  with  a  cas- 
cade of  soft  lace  falling  its  full  length  from  the  throat,  and  helped 
Aunt  Susan  into  it. 

"Lor',  maw,  yer  do  look  gran' !"  giggled  Polly.  "But,  come, 
he'p  me  git  into  dis  here  worritin'  frock.  I'm  plagued  if  'tain'  too 
short  nohow.  You  jes'  take  some  pins  and  pin  it  down" — as  Aunt 
Susan  came  forward  and  began  to  adjust  Miss  Flora's  garnet 
cashmere  upon  the  gaunt  form  of  her  eldest  hopeful.  "Not  too 
fur  down  now — you  know  how  it's  got  to  connec'  wid  de  basque." 

Jane,  in  the  meantime,  had  donned  a  soft  blue  tea-gown 
of  Miss  Flora's,  and  could  be  heard  in  the  adjoining  room  hand- 
ling such  articles  of  jewelry  as  had  been  left  upon  that  young, 
lady's  dressing  table.  Aunt  Susan  stepped  hastily  to  the  door. 
"You,  Jane!"  she  thundered,  "you  ornery  critter!  You  jes'  lef 
lone  dose  jewelries !  Ain'  yer  got  no  conshuns?  I's  lef  in  charge 
ob  dis  here  place  and  I  feel  worvy  ob  de  trus',  an'  I  ain'  de  one 
ter  see  de  fambly  jewelries  so  much  as  teched  by  any  one  here 
present !  You  take  dat  comb  right  outen  yer  head  an'  dem 
spanglers  offer  yer  black  wris's." 

The  ladies  descended  to  the  large  hall  which  ran  the  full 
depth  of  the  house  and  had  been  settled  upon  as  the  best  place  in 
which  to  receive  the  guests. 

Here  they  were  met  by  Patrick  Henry  and  George  Washing- 
ton, who  were  arrayed  in  borrowed  garments  of  their  masters. 

"Now,  mammer,"  said  Polly,  "yo'  stan'  near  de  do'  an'  hoi' 
yer  hans  so — wid  yer  hankchief  atween  'em.  Jane,  yo'  stan'  aside 
her  air  laugh  like  Miss  Flora  do,  no  matter  what  de  folks  says. 
Patrick  Henry  an'  me'll  be  at  de  dinin'-room  do'  to  show  'em  in." 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  115 

Mr.  Latiny  Lazarus  and  Miss  Lavinia  Speed  were  the  first 
comers,  and  they  received  a  warm  welcome.  While  the  lady  was 
laying  aside  her  wraps  Mr.  Lazarus  stood  gazing  about  him  in  a 
kind  of  awe. 

"Dis  here  house  is  mighty  'ceivin'.  It  looks  sizable  from  de 
outside,  but  when  yer  gits  in  it  de  walls  stretch  a-w-a-y  from  yer, 
an'  de  ceilin'  r-i-s-e  above  yer,  till  yer  feel  like  er  ant  in  er  quart 
cup !" 

Miss  Araminta  Phoenix  and  Mr.  Hiram  Spinner  came  next. 

"Walk  right  in!  How's  yer  sister,  Miss  Araminta?"  said 
Aunt  Susan. 

"She's  poorly,  thank  God,  Mis'  Washington.  What  wid  de 
wuk  an'  her  drunk  ole  man  an'  all  dem  chillen,  she's  'bout  played 
out !" 

"Has  she  got  nice  clothes  fur  dat  new  baby?" 

"No,  she  ain'  got  none  't  all,  an'  she  say  she  ain'  gwine  to 
git  none  nuther.  She's  done  'vided  close  fur  nine  chillen  already, 
an'  she  say  she's  sure  dat's  her  share,  so  she's  trus'in  to  de  Lord 
to  snatch  dis  one." 

The  bell  interrupted  them  here,  and  quite  a  batch  of  guests 
arrived  together.  At  length  all  had  arrived  excepting  Elder 
Jones  when  the  party  was  startled  by  a  very  decided  knocking  at 
the  kitchen  door.  A  terror  fell  upon  the  people.  With  widely 
distended  eyes  and  chattering  teeth  Patrick  Henry  pronounced 
the  magic  word,  "Cops !" 

Cautiously  Mr.  Lazarus  opened  the  kitchen  door  a  few  inches, 
with  a  rough  and  threatening,  "Who's  dar?" 

"It's  me,  de  shepherd  ob  dis  flock,"  a  stern  voice  replied. 

The  elder's  sheep  flocked  around  him  and  Aunt  Susan  hastily 
and  triumphantly  threw  open  the  dining-room  doors,  while  Mr. 
Columbus  Smackum  announced  in  stentorian  tones :  "De  feas'  is 
spread  an'  we  only  waits  de  leadin'  ob  our  honerd  parstor  'fore 
we  perceeds  to  clean  up  de  boa'd." 

"One  minute,  Broder  Smackum,"  said  Elder  Jones.  "As  de 
shepherd  ob  dis  flock,  I  am  here  dis  night,  an'  I  kin  tell' yer  dat 


116  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

de  bleatin'  dat  comes  to  my  years  soun's  pow'ful  mo'  like  de  voice 
of  de  goat  dan  ob  de  lamb !  Before  we  goes  inter  dat  lubly  and 
temptin'  table  I  wants  all  ob  yer  here  present  what  calls  'emse'ves 
strictly  hones',  an'  is  members  in  good  standin'  in  Ebenezer 
Church,  fur  ter  take  dere  stan'  agin  de  souf  wall — fardes'  from 
dat  dinin'-room." 

Like  one  man  the  righteous  throng  swung  southward. 

"Fs  glad,  brederin  an'  sisters,  if  yer  all  b'long  dar  on  de  souf 
side,  an'  in  de  sunshine  ob  de  Lord's  approval,  rader  dan  on  de 
norf  side,  where  de  win'  ob  His  wraf  an'  curse  sweeps  ober  yer ; 
but  be  re'sured  dat  if  any  stan'  dar  er-callin'  ob  hissel  hones',  when 
de  bran'  of  de  thief  res'  upon  his  soul,  he  is  er-layin  up  judgment 
agin  hisself  in  de  las'  day!" 

The  crowd  swayed  uneasily  toward  the  center  of  the  hall. 

"Now  look  fru  dem  do's  as  yer  stand  opposite" — every  eye 
followed  the  direction  of  the  long  black  finger  as  it  pointed  to 
the  table — "each  one  on  yer  look  straight  at  de  donation  what  yer 
brung  or  sent,  an'  den  look  in  yer  own  heart  an'  see  if  dat  was 
'pervided  hones' '  in  de  sight  ob  de  pusson  whose  house  it  lef 
'fore  it  come  here." 

A  groan  was  the  only  answer. 

"Brederin  an  sisters,  dat  food  in  dar  would  stick  in  de  froat 
ob  any  hones'  pusson  what  tried  to  swaller  it.  Better  is  a  dinner 
ob  yarbs,  what's  come  by  hones',  dan  de  stalded  ox  what  war 
hooked  from  his  crib."  (Sounds  of  sobs  and  murmurs  of  "Lord! 
L-o-r-d  ! !"  from  the  assembly.) 

"Now  be  not  cas'  down,  fur,  brederin',  de  Lord  neber  yet 
'low  a  temptation  fur  to  come  to  any  man  'thout  pervidin'  a  do' 
ob  'scape.  Yer  can  each  one  resto'  ter  de  owner  de  victuals  what 
yer  fotch  here,  unteched.  To  screw  up  yer  courage,  we  will  all 
jine  in  singin'  one  verse  ob  'Zion  is  a  hard  road  to  trabel',  an'  den 
while  Air.  Tobe  Watkins  gibs  us  a  verse  ob  fDe  debil's  hard  arter 
my  soul,'  each  penitent  will  'sume  dey  wraps  an'  geder  from  de 
dinin'-room  whateber  dey  brung  or  sent  an'  kerry  it  back  ter  de 
place  what  dey  fotch  it  from." 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  117 

"I  ax  nothin'  onreason'ble,  de  Lord,  He  know  our  frame, 
He  'members  we  is  dus' — coal-dus'.  If  et's  beyon'  yer  strength  to 
'fess  yer  fault  ter  yer  missuses,  jes'  leabe  yer  tings  at  dere  do's 
an'  ring  de  bells,  an'  when  yer  done  it,  come  wid  clean  nan's  an' 
pure  hearts  to  my  house  on  Goat  alley,  an'  he'p  yerse'ves  freely 
ter  de  barrel  ob  apples  an'  de. bushel  of  ches'nuts  what  Uncle 
Adam  an'  Aunt  Hannah  Norris  done  pervided  hones'  in  de  sight 
ob  all  men — an'  may  de  Lord  be  wid  yer  an'  furgib  yer !" 

And,  as  the  last  startling  notes  of  "De  debit's  hard  arter  my 
soul,"  shot  from  the  throat  of  Mr.  Tobe  Watkins,  the  door  closed 
upon  the  bearer  of  almost  the  last  dainty  which  had  so  lately 
crowned  the  Thanksgiving  board. 


Neddie's  Thanksgiving  Visit 


I  turn  to  see  my  gran'ma  one  cold  Fanksgivin'  day, 
I  shooked  and  fweezed  and  chattered  all  along  ve  way; 
Gran'ma  was  knitting  stockings  and  so  I  twied  to  knit, 
Dot  hold  of  ve  wong  fwed  and  undid  every  bit. 

Nex'  day  I  twied  to  tackle  a  piggy  for  a  horse, 

I  tumbled  in  ve  pig-pen — whew  !  wasn't  gran'ma  cross  ? 

I'm  sure  I  wan't  to  blame  'cause  my  new  dwess  was  white, 

If  mamma  'd  made  it  pig-color  'twouldn't  have  showed  a  mite. 

My  gran'ma's  got  a  brick  room  filled  up  wiv  pans  of  milk ; 
One  day  I  let  in  pussie — she's  des'  as  soft  as  silk — 
An'  pussie  likes  ve  fick  cweam  ve  best  of  any  fing. 
I  sat  her  down  aside  a  pan ;  you'd  ought  to  heard  her  sing. 

She's  awful  funny,  pussie,  along  ve  shelf  she  ran 
And  wiv  her  little  nosie  made  blue  holes  in  every  pan. 
But  gran'ma's  awful  stingy — she  dwived  us  bofe  away, 
And  said  she'd  a  mind  to  send  me  home  'afore  another  day. 


118  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Sometimes  ze  pussie's  naughty :  one  day  she  catched  a  mouse, 
An'  chased,  an'  teased,  an'  bited  it  all  around  ve  house. 
I  hit  her  wiv  ve  'tato-masher  every  time  she'd  turn. 
I  dot  away  poor  mousie  an'  hid  him  in  ve  churn. 

Who  ever  fot  zat  cweam  would  drown  ?    I  fot  'twas  only  wivers — 
But  when  my  gran'ma  churned  nex'  day  zat  mouse  was  drowned 

to  slivers. 
Vey  gave  ve  butter  to  ve  pigs,  vey  putted  me  to  bed, 
An'  vey  spanked  poor  pussie  awful,  wite  on  her  pretty  head. 

One  day  I  saw  a  tub  of  milk — Ave  keeps  ours  in  a  dish — 

I  fot  'twas  good  for  noffin,  an'  so  I  d  catch  some  fish. 

I  des  dot  sitted  down — my  feets  was  pretty  fweeze — 

When  in  came  gran'ma  screaming,  "Zat  fellow's  in  my  cheese !" 

She  jumped  me  out,  I  tell  you,  wite  on  the  cold  stone  floor, 
She  called  my  new  boots  dirty,  an'  locked  ve  dawy  door. 
I've  been  awful  good  to  gran'ma — haint  raised  a  speck  of  dust, 
But  I'm  going  home  to-morrow,  'cause  gran'ma  says  I  must. 


The  Thanksgiving  Ride  of  the  Pumpkins 


By  EiJvA  M.  Powers. 


Five  jolly,  fat  pumpkins  one  moonlight  night 
Said:  "Come,  let  us  all  take  a  ride. 

The  turkeys  will  take  us  with  ease  and  delight." 
So  away  they  all  rode  in  great  pride. 

But  soon  Mistress  Cook  cried  out  in  dismay, 
"O,  where  are  my  turkeys,  my  pies?" 

"They  all  went  away  to  spend  Thanksgiving  day," 
Said  the  moon,  laughing  down  from  the  skies. 


rHANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  119 

Where  the  Mince  Pie  Grows 


Little  Sam  Sugartooth  said  to  himself, 

As  he  sat  by  a  great  big  rose : 
"I  wish  I  could  go  with  a  fairy  elf 

To  the  land  where  the  mince  pie  grows. 
I'd  sit  all  day,  in  a  dreamy  way, 

And  I'd  watch  them  bud  and  bloom, 
And  I'd  eat  and  eat  of  the  fruit  so  sweet 

Just  as  long  as  my  stomach  had  room." 

Little  Sam  Sugartooth  fell  asleep, 

And  as  sure  as  the  tale  I  tell, 
The  elfins  softly  round  did  creep, 

And  the  boss  one  said :  "  'Tis  well." 
With  a  graceful  hand  he  waved  his  wand, 

And  sleeping  Sam  arose 
On  the  elfins'  backs,  and  they  all  made  tracks 

For  the  land  where  the  mince  pie  grows. 

Little  Sam  Sugartooth  opened  his  eyes 

And  he  looked  with  a  wondering  gaze, 
And  he  saw  'twas  the  bakerman  making  pies, 

And  the  boss  bakerman,  he  says : 
"Dot's  a  nice  leedle  tog  unt  a  olt  creen  frog 

Unt  some  drash  vat  I  fount  in  de  streed: 
Shust  schop  dem  nice,  mit  dose  rats  unt  mice, 

Unt  'dwill  do  for  de  next  mince  mead." 

Little  Sam  Sugartooth  kept  quite  still, 

But  he  thought  that  his  sides  would  bust 
When  he  saw  those  bakermen  with  a  will 

Commence  on  the  mince  pie  crust. 
In  a  great  big  trough,  with  their  stockings  off, 

In  their  bare,  red,  flat  Dutch  feet, 
They  tramped  that  dough,  till  the  boss  said:  "Ho! 

Dot'll  do;  pring  de  nice  mince  mead." 


120  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Little  Sam  Sugartooth  watched  them  close 

As  they  brought  out  their  rolling  pins, 
And  he  saw  them  putting  that  horrid  dose 

Into  rusty  old  worn-out  tins. 
But  his  stomach  was  sick  and  his  sight  grew  thick, 

As  anyone  would  suppose, 
And  he  wished  in  his  heart  that  he  might  depart 

From  the  land  where  the  mince  pie  grows. 

Little  Sam  Sugartooth  stirred  himself 

And  he  found  he  had  dreamt  a  dream, 
But  he  looked  around  for  the  fairy  elf, 

For  the  whole  thing  strange  did  seem. 
And  since  that  day  the  folks  do  say 

That  he  turns  his  nose  up  high, 
And  hops  like  a  frog  and  barks  like  a  dog 

When  you  offer  him  fresh  mince  pie. 


A  Thanksgiving  Dinner 


By  Lesbia  Bryant. 


Young  Turkey  Gobbler,  with  highly  arched  head, 

Looked  at  his  mates  gathered  round : 
"To-morrow's  Thanksgiving,"  he  earnestly  said, 

"And  not  one  of  us  must  be  found; 
For  I  heard  the  farmer  tell  his  wife 

That  he  would  only  kill  three — 
And  all  the  while  he  sharpened  his  knife 

He  kept  his  eye  on  me. 
'Forewarned  is  forearmed' — a  saying  old; 

Come,  let's  hide !"  he  said. 
But  the  next  morning,  stiff  and  cold, 

He  hung  by  his  legs  in  the  shed. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  121 

Miss  Yellow  Pumpkin,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 

Grew  on  a  sunny  slope. 
"To-morrow's  Thanksgiving — they  always  have  pies ; 

But  they  won't  find  me,  I  hope ! 
To  be  made  into  pies — what  a  dreadful  fate !" 

And  she  rolled  from  side  to  side. 
"Oh,  there  comes  the  farmer's  daughter,  Kate, 

And  I  must  surely  hide !" 
Then  Miss  Yellow  Pumpkin  rolled  down  hill, 

Bruising  her  dainty  self, 
And  she  didn't  come  to  her  senses  until 

There  were  twelve  golden  pies  on  the  shelf. 

"I  wonder  what  they  are  trying  to  do?" 

Said  the  Apples  in  the  bin. 
"If  we're  to  be  pared  and  cut  in  two, 

I  think  it's  a  shame  and  a  sin ! 
And  only  think — to  be  wrapped  in  dough, 

And  put  over  a  kettle  to  steam  ! 
And  now  comes  the  very  worst  of  it,  though — 

To  be  eaten — with  sugar  and  cream  !" 

The  Potatoes  and  Onions,  the  Turnips  and  Squash 

Got  into  a  regular  flutter, 
When  the  farmer's  wife  gave  each  a  taste 

Of  the  very  same  kind  of  butter. 
"How  can  I  stand  it,"  Sir  Table  said ; 

And  he  groaned  as  if  in  pain. 
"Oh,  dear,  I  would  be  really  glad 

If  Thanksgiving  ne'er  came  again. 
Oh,  me !  oh,  me !"  and  he  groaned  the  more 

As  the  children  took  their  places; 
But  smilingly  his  load  he  bore 

When  he  saw  their  happy  faces. 


122  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  Little  Turkey  Gobbler 


Said  the  turkey  gobbler's  mamma  to  the  little  turkey  gobbler, 

"Stay  at  home ! 
No  matter  what  temptation  comes,  I  warn  you  yet  again, 

Do  not  roam !" 
Then  the  anxious  mamma  went  away  to  spend  the  autumn  day, 

But  alas ! 
She  was  not  gone  two  hours  before  a  butcher-man  that  coop 

Did  pass— pass ! 
Ah !  you,  my  little  hearers,  sure  can  guess  the  rest  of  it ; 

For  you  know 
That  gobbler,  he  was  fat,  and  that  butcher  knew  it  well, 

And  so,  so, 
He  grabbed  him  by  the  leg,  swung  his  head  across  a  block — 

Woe  is  me ! 
And  when  his  mamma  came  at  night,  nothing  but  his  head 

Could  she  see ! 


Home  for  Thanksgiving 


By  Jean  Murdock. 


Just  outside  a  peaceful  little  hamlet  on  the  shores  of  broad, 
beautiful  Erie,  lies  the  dear  old  farm — my  birthplace. 

In  fancy  I  see  again  the  old,  low  red-brick  house  with  its 
wide  cosy  veranda,  the  blue  smoke  curling  lazily  from  the  broad 
chimneys,  the  large,  old-fashioned  flower-garden. 

At  the  back,  stretched  the  broad  acres  of  my  father's  farm, 
with  their  fields  of  waving,  golden  grain,  or  green  pastures,  over 
which  roamed  the  mild-eyed  cows,  or  galloped  the  spirited  horses. 

Such  was  my  home ;  the  place  where  my  merry  girlhood  was 
spent  among  my  brothers  and  sisters,  Archie  and  Nell,  Grace, 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  123 

Charlie  and  myself,  a  happy,  careless,  loving-  troop.  All  day 
long  we  played  racing  over  the  meadows,  roaming  through  the 
woods  or  building  houses  on  the  sand. 

Ah,  that  is  a  long  time  since !  Our  clever,  gifted,  handsome 
Archie,  is  now  a  lawyer  at  the  bar.  Nell,  bright-eyed,  rosy-cheeked 
Nell,  is  now  a  comely  matron,  with  a  little  brood  of  her  own  to 
watch  over  and  care  for.  Grace  is  married  to  a  young  merchant. 
Charlie,  wild,  wilful,  generous-hearted  Charlie,  has  studied  med- 
icine. Only  the  old,  white-haired  father  and  mother  are  left  in 
that  home  now.  Dear  old  father  is  bent  and  aged,  deep  wrinkles 
plough  his  worn  face  and  his  withered  hand  trembles.  And 
mother,  the  idol  of  our  young  days,  is  failing  fast,  but  she  looks 
up  with  the  old,  tender  smile  to  meet  the  husband  of  her  youthful 
days. 

"We  are  fading  away,  Teems,"  she  says.  "We  shall  soon 
cross  the  dark  valley,  and  the  place  that  has  known  us  so  long 
shall  know  us  no  more.  God  has  prospered  us,  my  husband;  He 
has  sent  us  plenty,  and  dear,  noble  boys  and  girls  to  be  a  com- 
fort to  us  in  our  old  age.  Before  we  go,  Jeems,  we  will  have 
them  all  around  us  once  again  for  Thanksgiving." 

So  we  meet  in  a  body  at  the  village  and  go  out  together 
with  our  families,  to  the  dear,  old  familiar  homestead. 

At  the  door  we  are  met  by  father,  who  says  not  a  word,  but 
silently  takes  us  in  his  arms  and  kisses  us,  placing  his  dear,  old 
hands  in  blessing  on  the  curly  heads  of  our  children,  who  are  wild 
with  happiness  to  see  grandpa  again. 

But  grandma,  where  is  she?  Grandpa  leads  us  into  the 
parlor  with  its  cheery  open  fireplace,  and  there  sits  grandma. 

Silently,  with  wet  eyes  and  throbbing  hearts  we  kneel  and 
kiss  the  faded  lips  and  silver  hair,  and  grandma  smiles  and  says, 
"God  bless  you,  my  children."  Then  the  little  ones  are  lifted  up 
to  kiss  grandma  good-night.  Ah !  little  do  they  dream  that  it  is 
"Good-bye" ;  that  ere  they  see  her  again  grandma  will  be  beyond 
the  sky  in  the  light  of  God's  eternal  love.  Oh !  what  a  home- 
coming is  this ;  what  a  Thanksgiving ! 


124  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

With  aching  hearts  we  tuck  the  children  away  in  bed  and  go 
down  to  receive  our  last  good  night. 

"Read  for  me,  Archie,  my  boy,"  the  mother  says,  as  we  all 
gather  round  her,  with  poor,  old  father's  head  bent  on  the  arm 
of  her  chair  to  conceal  the  anguish  he  will  not  pain  her  by  letting 
her  see. 

And  Archie  reads  the  words  that  have  been  her  "Staff  of 
Life." 

"The  Lord  is  my  shepherd;  I  shall  not  want." 

Low,  clear  and  sweet  come  her  parting  words,  "Yea,  though 
I  go  down  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  Death,  I  have  no  fear, 
for  Thou  art  with  me.  Good-bye,  my  children,  a  loving  Saviour 
unite  you  with  me  in  heaven.  Dear  Jeems,  do  not  mourn,  you  will 
come  to  me  ere  long,  and — it  is  well  with  my  soul." 

With  a  gasp  the  gentle  life  is  ended,  and  we  are  left  alone  to 
cry  with  motherless  hearts  for  "mother,  mother,"  and  to  comfort 
as  best  we  can  the  lonely  heart  of  the  dear  father  who  has  lost  his 
"all"  on  earth. 


Thanksgiving 


By  Harry  RomainE. 


"Bring  home  a  turkey ;  don't  forgit, 

And  praties,  Pat;  we  need  'em." 
"Ah,  Biddy,  if  you  asked  for  it 

I'd  get  the  bird  of  freedom." 
"The  eagle !     Sure  he'd  be  enough 

To  keep  us  from  starvation. 
But  wouldn't  he  be  rather  tough? 

He's  oulder  than  the  nation." 
"He  tough!     Bedad  you're  off  the  track; 

Columbia,    heaven    defend   her, 
Puts  him  upon  the  dollar's  back, 

And  then  he's  legal  tender." 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  125 

A  Thanksgiving  Story 


'Twas  to  be  a  grand  Thanksgiving, 
For  the  harvest  stored  away 

Safely  in  barn  and  cellar, — 
A  time  to  feast  and  pray. 

Alike  in  the  cot  and  mansion 
'Was  a  hurrying  here  and  there ; 

And  the  scent  of  the  browning  turkey 
Filled,  like  incense,  all  the  air. 

Dear  little  Puritan  Ruthie 
Looked  on  in  a  glad  surprise, 

With  her  small  hands  quaintly  folded, 
And  her  blue  eyes  grave  and  wise; 

And  a  host  of  eager  questions 
Flitting  from  brain  to  tongue, 

To  puzzle  the  busy  workers 
Their  savory  tasks  among; 

Until  her  mother  lost  patience. 

"Ruth,  'tis  Thanksgiving  day," 
She  said,  "and  we  are  all  busy; 

Thee  must  go  out  and  play. 

"I  will  call  thee  when  I  want  thee." 

Then  quietly  little  Ruth 
Tripped  out  of  the  noisy  kitchen, 

Though  she'd  rather  not,  in  truth. 

The  dinner  at  last  was  ready, 

The  haste  and  the  bustle  were  o'er, 

And  the  mother,  flushed  with  toiling, 
Swung  open  the  cottage  door, 


126  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Calling,  "Come,  child,  now  I  want  thee, 
I  want  thee,  Ruth;  does  thee  hear?" 

But  her  face  grew  white  that  moment 
With  a  sudden  dreadful  fear. 

Where  was  she,  her  little  daughter? 

The  forest  was  deep  and  wide; 
"Ruth !  Ruth !"  but  only  the  echo 

Of  her  trembling  voice  replied. 

The  dinner  was  left  untasted, 

And  the  search  went  bravely  on, 

Till  the  pale  stars  shone  in  heaven 
And  the  daylight  all  had  gone. 

"Have  you  tidings  of  the  lost  one?" 
'Twas  a  heart-sick  mother's  cry, 

To  one  and  another  searcher, 
"None  yet,"  was  the  low  reply ; 

"But  there  soon  must  be ;  be  trustful.'* 
And  all  through  the  darksome  night 

The  torches  flamed  and  flickered 
Under  the  stars'  pale  light. 

At  last  in  the  east  a  glimmer 

Told  of  a  day  begun ; 
And  the  scattered  band  of  hunters 

Heard — was  it  the  signal  gun? 

Found !  in  a  sheltered  corner — 
In  a  hollow  snug  and  deep ; 

All  rosy,  unharmed,  and  peaceful, 
The  child  lay  fast  asleep. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  127 

Found!  but  the  joyous  clamor 

Of  a  sudden  died  in  air, 
For  the  golden  head  was  nestling 

On  a  great,  black,  shaggy  bear. 

He  growled  at  the  waving  torchlight, 

Ruth's  blue  eyes  opened  wide. 
"I'm  glad  you've  come  to  find  me, 

I  knew  you  would !"  she  cried. 

She  glanced  at  the  leveled  muskets, 

Half  a  dozen  all  around; 
And  forth,  with  a  cry  of  terror, 

She  sprang,  at  a  single  bound ! 

"Don't  shoot  the  dog!"  she  pleaded, 

Her  wee  hands  clasping  tight ; 
"He  has  kept  me  warm  and  safe 

All  through  this  cold,  dark  night." 

"So  be  it !"  cried  her  father, 

As  he  clasped  her  in  his  arm; 
"Not  a  single  hair  of  his  shaggy  coat 

Through  us  shall  come  to  harm !" 

Then  home  went  the  glad  procession 

Through  the  morning  growing  fair, 
To  the  cottage  in  the  forest, 

To  the  mother  waiting  there 

For  the  child,  whose  face  she  sprinkled 

With  the  tears  she  could  not  stay — 
"I  thank  Thee,  Lord !"  she  murmured, 

"For  this  Thanksgiving  day." 


128  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Pumpkin  Pie 


When  melancholy  days  come  round  and  leaves  get  brown  and  red ; 
When  corn  is  shocked,  and  when  you  add  a  blanket  to  your  bed ; 
When  apples,  pared  and  quartered,  are  set  in  the  sun  to  dry; 
This  is  the  time  you  smack  your  lips  and  think  of  pumpkin  pie. 

This  pumpkin  pie's  a  tempting  dish  to  almost  any  fellow ; 

So  sweet  and  tender,  luscious  (yum!)  and  then,  withal,  so  yellow. 

You  stir  up  eggs  and  milk  and  spice  and  sugar,  O  my  eye ! 

And  then  you  add  the  pumpkin,  and  that  makes  the  pumpkin  pie. 


A  Thanksgiving  Legend 


By  Gilbert  Nash. 


All  day  the  hungry  cattle  roamed  the  bleak  November  hills, 

The  scattered  grass-blades,  sere  and  dry,  crushed  crisply  to  the 
tread, 
The  gushing  springs,  that  leaped  so  oft  to  swell  the  eager  rills, 

And  clothe  the  fields  with  velvet  garb,  before  the  drought  had 
fled. 
No  corn  lay  nestling  in  the  stock,  no  meal  the  closet  bore, 

The  harvest  shrunk  beneath  the  blast  of  that  fierce  summer  sky, 
No  hay  the  barren  mows  upheld,  empty  and  bare  the  floor, 

And  now  the  dreary  winter  months  were  hastening  all  too  nigh. 

One  question  spoke  in  every  face — "Where  shall  we  look  for 

bread?" 
The  days  still  fly,  as  they  have  fled ;  no  succor  meets  the  gaze. 

The  gen'rous  main  yields  scanty  fare,  though  brave  men  struggle 

hard. 
The  very  fish  lie  under  ban,  while  children  cry  for  food, 
The  sandy  beach,  whose  fruitful  breast,  with  jealous  care  they 

guard, 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  129 

Responds  not  to  their  pressing  need,  but  sleeps  in  solitude. 
All  human  help  has  vanished  quite,  the  last  hope  almost  fled, 

While  now,  upon  the  bended  knee,-  men  seek  their  God  in  prayer, 
Will  He,  who  for  them  gave  His  Son,  and  brought  Him  from 
the  dead, 
Look  coldly  on  their  agony,  and  now  refuse  His  care? 
"O  God,  whose  ear  the  fathers  heard,  hear  Thou  the  children's 
prayer ! 
Thou  at  whose  word  earth's  treasures  lie,  in  whose  right  hand 
is  power, 
Look  down  in  mercy  on  our  woe,  and  in  our  blank  despair, 

Be  Thou  our  strong  deliverer,  our  refuge  in  this  hour. 
Thou  leddest  Israel  as  a  flock — from  heaven  came  angels'  food — 

And  badest,  from  the  flinty  rock,  the  living  waters  leap. 
Has  Thy  strong  arm  its  vigor  lost?    Is  Thine  a  changeful  mood? 
Are  we  not  Thine,  and  wilt  Thou  not  Thine  oft-made  promise 
keep  ?-" 

The   strong  man  bows   in  trusting  faith — the   woman   bows   in 
tears — 
The  children  look  in  wonderment — they,  also,  look  and  pray, 
Will  He  not  visit  their  distress,  and  calm  their  many  fears? 
Will  He  not  open  now  their  path,  and  from  the  night  bring  day? 
Look  yonder — see  that  glittering  speck  far  out  upon  the  main ! 
And  eager  eyes  are  all  aflame — up  springs  the  bended  knee ! 
The   fiercely   throbbing   hearts   are   mute — the   flashing   eyeballs 
strain, 
And  yet  'tis  but  a  tiny  star  that  dances  on  the  sea. 
And  now  it  lifts  upon  the  wave,  now  sinks  again  from  sight ; 

It  sparkles  like  a  royal  gem,  then  for  an  instant  hides ; 
But  swiftly  flies  before  the  breeze,  a  messenger  of  light, 

And  soon,  the  cry,  "A  sail !  a  sail !     Blest  be  the  hand  that 
guides !" 
And  now  the  strange  bark  nears  the  stand,  the  rushing  cables  hiss, 
The  pond'rous  anchor  plunges  sheer,  and  grasps  the  ground 
below ; 


130  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRA  TIONS  ' 

Hand  meets  with  hand  in  manly  clasp — the  tear  greets  many  a 
kiss — 
For  each,  though  ne'er  before  they  met,  finds  none  a  stranger 
now. 

"Thanksgiving  for  the  mercies  past,  and  for  the  future  good ; 

For  though  He  guides  in  unknown  ways,  the  end  is  always  sure ! 
Our  Lord,  the  ever-faithful  God,  gives  to  the  hungry  food, 

And  never  fails  His  children,  while  His  promises  endure. 
Praise,  then,  from  joyous  hearts,  we  bring  to  Him  on  bended  knee. 

And  thanks  for  that  deliverance  which  He  has  wrought  this  day, 
And,  year  by  year,  glad  hearts  shall  sing  a  welcome  jubilee, 

While  children's  children  lift  the  strain,  and  grateful  memory 

pay."  

Reasons  for  Thanks 


By  Walter  J.  Ballard. 


Let  us  be  thankful  to  Almighty  God  for  all  the  blessings  He 
has  showered  and  is  showering  upon  the  American  nation  in 
material  things. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  way  in  which  He  has  led  the 
American  people  in  the  paths  of  duty  and  honor  in  the  years  that 
are  past. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  clear  conception  He  has  given  the 
American  people  of  their  obligations  for  the  future,  toward  the 
oppressed  of  their  own  and  all  lands. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  spirit  of  loyalty  and  gratitude  in 
which  the  American  people  have  always  responded  to  these  lead- 
ings and  obligations. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  Abraham  Lincoln  and  the  removal  of 
the  curse  of  slavery  from  our  midst,  heavy  as  was  the  price  we 
paid  for  its  removal. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  sense  of  duty  displayed  by  our 
brethren  of  the  South  in  accepting  the  verdict  of  the  civil  war,  and 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  131 

for  the  energy  they  have  put  forth  in  building  up  the  New 
South. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  patriotism  of  the  North  and  the 
South  in  promptly  responding  to  the  call  for  military  and  naval 
service  when  the  crisis  of  the  Spanish  war  was  upon  us. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  inspiration  to  duty  which  always 
animates  our  army  and  navy  when  the  call  to  action  comes. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  "Stars  and  Stripes,"  which  pro- 
claims liberty  to  all,  when  flung  to  the  sun-kissed  breezes  of  the 
Pacific,  or  the  icy  winds  of  the  Arctic. 

Let  us  be  thankful  that  we  can  point  to  that  flag  in  any  part 
of  the  world,  and  with  the  words :  "That  is  my  country's  flag," 
rest  safely  under  its  folds. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  that  American  spirit  of  individuality 
which  can  always  be  relied  on  "with  the  hour  to  produce  the  man." 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  examples  left  us  by  the  lives  of 
America's  glorious  dead. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  magnificent  contributions  contin- 
ually being  given  by  Americans  to  the  cause  of  American  educa- 
tion and  advancement. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  free  public  schools  of  America  with 
their  sixteen  millions  of  American  boys  and  girls. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  the  army  of  devoted  men  and  women, 
who  in  teaching  these  sixteen  million  school  children  are  building 
the  America  of  the  future. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  that  other  army  of  devoted  workers, 
who,  either  in  the  pulpits  and  missions  of  our  own  land,  or  in 
foreign  lands,  are  doing  Christ's  work  upon  earth. 

Let  us  be  thankful  for  that  realization  of  obligation  to  duty 
which  enables  the  American  people  always  to  take  to  heart  what 
the  poet  meant  when  he  wrote : 

"  For  the  cause  that  lacks  assistance, 
For  the  wrong  that  needs  resistance, 
For  the  future  in  the  distance, 
And  the  good  that  we  can  do." 

Let  us  be  thankful  that  we  are  Americans. 


132  THANKSGIVING    CELEBRATIONS 

His  Thanksgiving  Dream 


By  Agnes  M.  Smith. 


Three  plates  full  of  turkey  with  cranberry  sauce, 

And  four  or  five  vegetables,  too, 
And  candy  and  raisins  and  ice-cream  and  pie — 

Poor  Tommy !     How  little  he  knew 
What  a  quarrel  they'd  have  in  his  little  insides 

In  the  course  of  that  Thanksgiving  night ! 
The  people  he  dreamed  of  were  all  so  mixed  up, 

He  couldn't  get  one  of  them  right. 
Miss  Muffet  was  sitting  on  something  quite  high, 

It  wasn't  a  tuffet  at  all; 
It  looked  very  much  as  if — yes,  it  must  be ! 

It  was,  Humpty  Dumpty's  red  wall ! 
And  Humpty  see-sawed  with  Miss  Margery  Daw — ■ 

He  tumbled,  and  came  down  too  soon ; 
And  Little  Red  Riding  Hood,  dear  little  girl, 

Ran  away  with  the  man  in  the  moon. 
King  Cole,  he  was  busily  shaving  the  pig; 

The  Barber  was  singing  "Ding-Dong!" 
The  maid  wasn't  hanging  out  clothes  as  she  should, 

She  was  singing  the  old  sixpence  song. 
Jack  Horner  was  asking  the  little  black  sheep 

To  give  him  a  bag  full  of  wool; 
And  "Diller  a  Dollar,"  that  ten  o'clock  scholar, 

For  once  was  quite  early  at  school. 
Now  "Rockaby,  baby,  upon  the  tree-top," 

Was  queer  for  Tom  Tucker  to  sing. 
The  queen  ate  her  honey  with  Little  Boy  Blue; 

The  little  dog  laughed — at  the  king ! 
Now  Little  Bo  Peep  rode  to  Banbury  Cross 

So  fast  that  Cock  Horse  couldn't  stop ! 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  133 

When  Old  Mother  Hubbard  went  to  the  cupboard, 

She  found  it  was  full  to  the  top ! 
Now  Tommy  slept  badly  because  of  all  this ; 

He  hated  his  pie  and  ice-cream. 
And  he  was  right  glad  when  he  woke  up  next  day, 

To  find  it  was  only  a  dream. 


A  Thanksgiving  Lesson 


By  Eva  Lyle  Dickinson. 


'Ellen,  a  girl  aged  fourteen. 

Carrie,  aged  twelve. 
Characters:  j  . 

I  Anna,  ten. 

!  Kathleen,  eight. 

Scene  :  Ellen  seated  by  a  table  reading.  The  others 
grouped  together,  laughing  and  whispering. 

Ellen.     Kathleen,  do  you  know  what  day  this  is? 

Kathleen.     Of  course,  I  do.     It's  Thanksgiving. 

Ellen.  Yes,  that's  right.  I've  found  a  nice  story,  about  the 
first  Thanksgiving,  that  I  will  read  to  you  after  a  while. 

Anna.  Don't  want  to  hear  it.  Get  enough  of  books  in 
school  without  reading  anything  on  a  holiday. 

Ellen.  But  you  want  to  know  something  about  Thanksgiv- 
ing, don't  you  ?    Why  do  we  keep  Thanksgiving  anyway,  Carrie  ? 

Anna.     You  must  think  we  don't  know  anything. 

Carrie.  I  don't  know,  and  don't  care,  just  so  I  get  my 
turkey. 

Ellen.  Yes,  but  you  should  care.  What  if  someone  should 
ask  you  why  you  keep  Thanksgiving?     What  would  you  say? 

Carrie.     That  I'm  thankful  for  a  holiday. 

Ellen.  I'd  be  ashamed  to  tell  it.  Well,  what  do  we  have 
on  Thanksgiving? 

Carrie.     Turkey,  for  one  thing. 


134  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Anna.     And  cranberry  sauce. 

Ellen.     I  mean  at  church.    What  have  we  at  church? 

Kathleen.     Thanksgiving  service. 

Ellen.     There,  Kathleen  knows  more  than  either  of  you 
You  all  be  quiet  now  and  I'll  ^ead  you  this  story. 

Anna.     You  don't  caie  about  anything  but  old  books. 

Kathleen.     And  you  want  us  to  be  just  like  you. 

Ellen.  I  don't,  but  you  should  know,  or  want  to  know, 
something  about  Thanksgiving.  Listen,  now,  while  I  read  this. 
It's  a  nice  story  and  you  ought  to  remember  it.  [Reads:]  "After 
Columbus  found  America,  people  began  to  come  here  and  settle. 
There  were  some  good  people,  called  Pilgrims,  across  the  sea,  who 
were  not  happy.  Their  king  would  not  let  them  worship  God  in 
their  own  way.  So  they  said,  'Let  us  go  away  to  the  new  coun- 
try, America.'    They  came  here  in  a  ship  called " 

Carrie.  Oh,  Ellen,  do  you  know  that  conundrum  about 
Thanksgiving  ? 

Anna  and  Kathleen.     Tell  it,  Carrie  ! 

Carrie.  What  country  in  Europe  would  you  celebrate 
Thanksgiving  with? 

[Pause.]     Anna.     Tur 

Kathleen.     Turkey.    That's  good.    Tell  another. 

Carrie.     Can't  think  of  any  now. 

Ellen.  Quit  talking  and  let  me  finish  this  story.  Where 
was  I?  Oh,  yes,  I  see.  [Reads:]  "They  came  here  in  a  ship 
called  the  'Mayflower.'  The  men  had  to  work  seven  years  to  pay 
for  the  ship.  Men,  women  and  children  came.  They  lived  in  log 
houses,  worked  very  hard  and  were  often  cold  and  hungry.  The 
Indians  gave  them  much  trouble,  but  they  were  happy  because 
they  could  worship  God  in  their  own  way." 

Anna.  I  don't  see  where  you  get  anything  about  Thanks 
giving  in  that. 

Ellen.  This  is  about  the  first  Thanksgiving  now.  "The 
Pilgrims  had  a  long,  cold  winter ;  often  they  did  i;ot  have  enough 
to  eat.     Many  took  sick  and  died.     ^  the   spring  they  planted 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  135 

wheat  and  corn ;  it  grew  well  and  in  the  fall  they  found  they  had 
enough  for  the  next  winter.     They  said " 

Carrie;.  Oh,  yes,  I've  thought  of  another  riddle.  If  a  col- 
ored waiter  should  drop  a  turkey  when  carrying  it  to  the  dining 
room,  what  effect  would  it  have  upon  the  nations  of  the  earth  ? 

[Pause. 1     Anna  and  Kathleen.     Give  it  up. 

Anna.     What's  the  answer? 

Carrie.  The  downfall  of  Turkey,  the  overthrow  of  Greece, 
the  break-up  of  China  and  the  humiliation  of  Africa.  That's  a 
good  one,  isn't  it? 

Ellen.  Do  be  quiet  while  I  finish  reading.  "They  said, 
Xet  us  thank  God  for  this.'  So  they  all  went  to  church  and 
thanked  God  who  had  been  so  good  to  them.  Then  the  Pilgrims 
gave  a  party  which  lasted  many  days.    The  good  Indians " 

Anna.  I  know  a  riddle.  What  is  the  principal  key  at 
Thanksgiving  ? 

Carrie.     I  don't  know. 

Kathleen.     Neither  do  I. 

Anna.     Turkey. 

Ellen.  Well,  the  good  Indians  came  to  their  party.  [Exit 
Carrie.]  "The  men  brought  wild  turkeys  and  deer  from  the 
woods  [exit  Anna  and  Kathleen],  and  oysters  from  the  sea, 
and  the  children  gathered  nuts."  Wouldn't  you  have  liked  to — 
Well,  if  those  children  haven't  gone.  Oh,  dear,  I'm  afraid  they 
will  never  learn  anything.     It  will  not  be  my  fault,  though. 


Thanksgiving  Day 


By  George  L.  Raymond. 


I  sought  the  house  Thanksgiving  Day, 
And  found  its  inmates  all  away, 
Save  her  who  sat  before  the  fire, 
And  by  her  side,  her  palsied  sire. 


136  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

At  play,  betwixt  her  fingers  white, 
A  needle  nimbly  glanced  the  light; 
But  oft  her  eyes  it  could  not  stay, 
To  either  side  would  glance  away. 

And  on  her  right  hand,  open  spread, 
There  lay  the  Book  of  God  she  read ; 
And  on  her  left  I  just  could  trace 
An  infant  namesake's  pictured  face. 

The  Book  of  God,  the  housekeeper, 
The  babe  that  had  been  named  for  her, 
The  Book  and  babe  and  she  between, — 
Through  doors  ajar  I  mark'd  the  scene. 

And  while  she  sat  before  me  so, 
Content  to  share  another's  woe ; 
A  captive  for  her  sisters  gone, 
Whom  all  their  joy  depended  on; 

Now  cheer'd  to  read  of  heavenly  worth 
For  soul  denying  self  on  earth ; 
Now  moved  to  do  the  deed  she  should 
Lest  wrong  should  lead  that  child  from  good : 

Another  soul,  my  heart  felt  sure, 
Could  keep,  if  so  surrounded,  pure, — 
If  there  God  lured  his  thought  above, 
And  here  one  shared  his  name  and  love. 


The  scene  was  homely;  yes,  I  know, 
But  homely  scenes  may  haunt  one  so! — 
That  still  her  sweet  face  with  me  stays, 
My  days  are  all  Thanksgiving"  Days. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  131 

Thanksgiving  at  the  Farm 


Josiah  Starn  had  just  finished  a  large  and  pleasing  breakfast 
of  buckwheat  cakes  and  Jersey  sausage,  and  was  now  drawing 
long  whiffs  from  his  corn-cob  pipe. 

While  he  smoked,  Catharine  Anne,  his  wife,  cleared  away  the 
breakfast  things. 

"Coming  to  service  this  mornin',  ain't  you,  Josiah  ?"  she  asked. 

"I  reckon  no,  Catharine  Anne — not  tu-day;  no — not  tu-day." 

"And  why  not,  Josiah?" 

"Well,  Catharine  Anne,  it's  just  this:  I've  got  a  feelin'  as 
I'd  like  to  spend  the  mornin'  alone  with  Natur'.  I'll  do  a  thanks- 
giving out  in  the  woods  thinkin'  in  my  own  quar  way,  figurin'  up 
all  the  Lord  hez  done  for  the  farm  and  me  durin'  the  past  year. 
You  and  the  children  go  to  meetin' ;  I'll  just  meander  about  and 
turn  up  at  dinner  time." 

A  look  of  disappointment  made  Catharine  Anne's,  "As  you 
please,  Josiah,"  a  triumph  of  wifely  tact. 

An  hour  later  Josiah  watched  his  wife  and  seven  children 
tramp  churchward  and,  five  minutes  after  that,  he  was  hurrying 
down  to  the  shore  of  Coon  Lake.  Four  old  friends  were  wait- 
ing for  him, — Jake  Holmes,  Isaac  Scattergood,  Matthew  Simpson 
and  Paul  Jenkins.  The  men  got  into  a  large  flat-bottomed  scow 
and  pulled  out  to  the  centre  of  the  lake. 

"Rig  the  table,"  said  Josiah  Starn. 

"Don't  you  boys  feel  the  awful  wetness  of  this  water?"  sug- 
gested Paul  Jenkins. 

"Well  spoke,  Paul.  Well  spoke.  Draw  that  cork,  Matthew. 
We'll  start  the  day  right,  anyhow." 

Five  cheerful  gurgles,  five  reluctant  sweeps  of  rough  hand 
over  moist  lips  and  then  the  five  old  farmers  settled  down  to 
"communing  with  Nature,"  that  is — a  stiff  game  of  draw  poker. 

Indian  summer  had  taken  all  the  chill  out  of  the  air  and  the 
sun  shone  kindly   down.     The  party  was   a  jolly  one.     Smiles 


138  THANKSGIVING   CEIEBRATIONS 

danced  across  wrinkled  faces ;  laughter  deep  and  husky  came  free 
and  often. 

But  all  happy  times  have  an  end  and  two  o'clock  drew  pain- 
fully near.  Josiah  Starn  had  been  playing  from  the  start  in 
bad  luck. 

"Last  pot,"  cried  some  one.  Josiah  held  up  a  four,  five  and 
seven  of  diamonds,  drawing  two  cards.  Scattergood  modestly  con- 
fessed he  already  held  three  aces ;  he'd  take  two  cards ;  kings  pre- 
ferred. Holmes  allowed  he  wouldn't  buck  agin  Providence  by 
drawing  four  cards  to  an  ace.  He  would  draw  out  of  the  game. 
Paul  Jenkins  said — and  he  spoke  with  deep  feeling — that  on  any 
other  day  but  Thanksgiving  he'd  just  lay  down  his  cards  and 
swear,  but  "being  as  it  was  Thanksgiving  he'd  buy  one  card." 
Matthew  Simpson  called  the  boys  to  witness  that  he'd  always 
stood  pat  on  the  last  hand  in  the  last  Jack  pot  on  Thanksgiving 
day.  He'd  got  too  old  to  make  any  new  rules  and  so  he'd  take 
his  chances  with  the  papers  he  now  held. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  after  the  draw.  Then  Josiah 
Starn  spoke  plaintively:  "I've  got  nothin'  but  five  cards  of  doubt- 
ful value,  but,  as  a  neighborly  act,  I'll  start  the  music  for  two 
dollars."  Paul  Jenkins  said  he  would  follow  his  first  idea.  Swear 
and  back  out.  Scattergood  complacently  observed :  "I  caught  that 
pair  of  kings,  and  the  least  I  can  do,  sitting  behind  an  ace  full, 
is  to  see  Josiah  Starn's  two  dollars  and  rise  him  a  cool  ten." 

It  was  Matthew  Simpson's  turn  to  speak.  Starn  and  Scat- 
tergood eyed  Simpson  suspiciously  as  he  toyed  with  his  cards.  At 
last  he  came  to  a  decision.  "Boys,  we  are  all  old  friends  and  this 
is  a  day  of  thanksgiving.  I'd  orter  put  this  hand  down.  That 
would  be  good  poker,  but  I  ain't  playing  poker  just  now — I'm 
playing  friends,  and  so  I'm  agoin'  to  see  Starn's  two  dollars,  Scat- 
tergood's  ten  dollars  and  tip  the  pot  a  cool  one  hundred." 

Once  more  it  was  Josiah  Starn's  turn  to  speak. 

"Boys,  I've  long  been  thinking  of  giving  up  farming  and 
turning  missionary,  and  when  I  devotes  myself  entirely  to  my 
fellow-men  I  ain't  goin'  to  want  no  kind  of  property  to  worry 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  139 

about.  Now  this  particular  hand  in  this  yer  particular  game,  on 
this  particular  pious  day,  gives  me  a  chance  to  distribute  all  I've 
got.  A  follerin'  this  idea  up,  I'm  going  to  do  a  bluff.  There's 
Scattergood's  rise  of  ten  dollars  that  uses  up  all  the  silver  I've 
got  left.  Simpson,  you've  always  said  them  two  Alderney  cows 
of  mine  would  be  dog-cheap  at  one  hundred  dollars.  My  sorrel 
horse,  Tom,  with  cart  and  harness,  is  good  for  say  eighty-five 
dollars.  Then  there's  three  ploughs  and  a  new  harrow — we'll  let 
them  go  for  twenty-five  dollars  more.  Them  figures  up  two  hun- 
dred and  ten  dollars,  and  here  they  all  goes  into  this  distribution- 
pot.  That  sees  your  rise  of  one  hundred  dollars,  Simpson,  and 
lifts  the  pot  one  hundred  and  ten  more." 

Scattergood  nervously  remarked :  "It'll  be  Simpson's  money, 
sure.  But  Simpson's  cut  out  to  be  a  rich  man ;  I  ain't.  He'll  get 
all  my  money  sooner  or  later,  and  to  make  it  sooner,  I'll  call.  My 
potato  crop  this  year  is  good  for  at  least  $210." 

Simpson  said  he'd  call  that  rise  of  Josiah  Starn's  by  putting 
up  $60  in  cash  and  a  due  bill   for  his   colt,   worth  $50. 

"Well,  boy?"  he  asked  Scattergood.  "What  can  you  show? 
I  know  you  were  lying  about  those  aces." 

"I  display  four  queens,"  calmly  stated  Scattergood. 

"No  good — four  aces  here,"  said  Simpson,  and  he  made  a 
move  to  draw  in  the  pot,  but  checked  himself  as  a  matter  of  idle 
form.     "Anything  to  say,  Josiah?" 

Josiah  apparently  came  ,back  from  a  long  wander.  "Any- 
thing to  say  ?  What  have  I  got  ?  Not  much,  I  reckon ;  but  let's 
take  a  look."  Carefully  he  slipped  the  cards  one  over  the  other. 
"Boys,  I've  caught  a  straight  flush." 

Catharine  Anne  Starn  caught  sight  of  Josiah  five  minutes  be- 
fore he  reached  home,  so  that  when  he  arrived  he  found  dinner 
on  the  table,  and  seven  hungry  little  Starns  all  in  their  places. 

"A  bit  late  you  are,  Josiah." 

"Sorry,  Mother;  but  you  know  when  I  get  communin'  with 
Natur'  I'm  apt  to  forget  the  passage  of  time" ;  and  Josiah  dropped 
into  the  arm-chair  at  the  head  of  the  table. 


140  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Catharine  Anne  from  behind  the  great  turkey,  looked  at  him 
interrogatively  for  a  moment,  and  then  asked,  "Have  you  forgot 
all  about  saying  grace?" 

"Of  course,  of  course ;"  and  Josiah,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
emotion,  said :  "For  what  we  have  received  this  day,  O  Lord ! 
make  us  truly,  truly  thankful." 

The  dinner  was  a  great  success.  Catharine  Anne  regarded 
her  husband  with  a  happier  look  than  she  had  worn  since  her  wed- 
ding day,  and  gave  him  extra  helpings  to  all  the  good  things. 

When  the  plum  pudding  and  mince  pies  had  disappeared  and 
the  children  had  gone  out,  Catharine  Anne  came  over  to  where 
Josiah  was  sitting  and,  bending  down,  kissed  him,  whispering: 
"You've  made  me  very  glad  to-day,  Josiah. .  I  am  very,  very 
proud  of  you." 

"How's  that,  Catharine  Anne?" 

'■I've  never  done  you  justice,  Josiah.  Somehow,  I  never 
could  believe  you  had  the  true  religious  spirit,  but,  no  man  with- 
out that  spirit  could  have  put  the  onction  and  the  fer-ver  you  did 
into  your  blessing  to-day.  Forgive  me,  Josiah,  for  my  hasty 
judgment." 

Josiah  placed  his  big  right  hand  over  his  eyes.  "Jumping  at 
conclusions  is  alius  risky  business,  Catharine  Anne" ;  but,  as  she 
hurried  away  to  quell  a  disturbance  among  the  children,  he  mut- 
tered, "Catharine  Anne — bless  the  old  girl — has  been  a  good  wife 
to  me.  I'll  buy  her  that  ten-dollar  Bible  with  pictures  of  all  the 
'postals  and  prophets  in  it  next  time  I  go  to  town — and — I  don't 
believe — I'll  ever — play  poker — again." 


Pessimistic  Gratitude 


I  don't  see  much  that  pleases  me, 
No  matter  where  I  turn ; 

The  world  is  full  of  discontent, 
And  lessons  none  can  learn. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  141 

The  weather's  always  too  intense; 

Too  hot  or  else  too  cold. 
One  day  they  tell  you  you're  too  young, 

And  next  you  are  too  old. 
Dame  Fortune  is  to  me  unkind, 

For  even  when  I  score 
I  know  that  by  a  different  plan 

I  might  have  gained  much  more. 
I've  known  the  pangs  of  hunger  keen, 

I've  felt  dyspepsia's  clutch — 
I've  either  not  enough  to  eat 

Or  else  I  eat  too  much. 
Though  punishment  is  often  swift, 

Reward  is  very  slow ; 
An  enemy  is  always  true, 

Though  friends  are  seldom  so. 
And  yet  I'll  hail  Thanksgiving  Day 

With  sentiments  devout — 
I'm  thankful  for  so  many  things 

That  I  can  kick  about. 


I'll  Be  at  Home  Thanksgivin, 


By  Lu  B.  Cake. 


"Pard,  I'm  better."      ■ 

"Glad  to  hear  it,  Jack.     I  knowed  ye'd  pull  through." 

"Waal,  I  calc'lated  that  ole  army  wound  would  drift  me  un- 
der.   I  come  nigh  throwin'  up  my  claim." 

"The  lead  war  gittin'  mighty  blind,  Jack.  I  tried  t'  ax  ye 
last  night  whar  yer  folks  war,  spectin'  to  send  'em  yer  last  words 
afore  mornin'." 

"Pard,  I  haint  heerd  of  'em  fer  fifteen  years.  I  wuz  alius 
wild.    Kin  ye  write,  messmate?" 


142  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

"Waal,  only  sorter.'' 

"Git   th'   tools   an'   I'll   word   it   fer  ye.        Next   Thursday's 

Thanksgivin'.     I'm  goin'  to  write  my  ole  mother  I'll  be  home. 

Draw  close  to  my  bunk,  pard.    Thar  now,  ye  ready  ?" 
"All  staked  out,  Jack.     Turn  it  on  slow." 

"In   course.      Fust — My   ole,   throwed-off   mother " 

"Jack," I  haint  up  in  styles,  but  that  sounds  kinder " 


"It's  jes'  th'  thing.     I  run  away  from  her,  messmate.     Now 

foller  th'  lead  close I'll  be  to  home  Thanksgivin'.    I  haint  fer- 

got  ye,  God  bless  ye.  It's  fifteen  year  Thanksgivin'  since  yer  boy 
run  off  to  the  war — crawled  out  the  house  like  a  Injun.  But  I 
resked  one  look  at  yer  lovin'  face.  I've  carried  it,  like  a  picter,  all 
these  years — that  dear  face,  lookin'  like  when  ye  told  yer  wild 
boy  to  say  his  pra'rs.  Somehow  it  showed  up  in  all  the  bad  places 
and  kept  me  from  goin'  clean  down.  When  I  got  reckless  that 
face  come  an'  follered  me  as  a  still  pra'r " 

"Shut  down,  Jack.  Thar,  guess  th'  sun  got  in  my  eyes.  Per- 
ceed." 

"Th'  night  afore  th'  battle  at  Lookout  Mountain  yer  face 
come  to  me  with  tears  on  the  cheeks.  I  wuz  shot  next  day  an' 
left  fer  dead.  But  I  pulled  up  arter  while,  an'  drifted  West  into 
th'  mines.  It's  made  yer  boy  rough,  but  thar's  gold  in  the  quartz 
yit.  Nurthin'  saved  me  only  jest  that  face.  When  I  started  fer 
th'  lower  level,  it  alius  come  to  coax  me  back.  If  I  got  broke 
an'  everything  went  agin  me,  that  face  come  smilin'  to  cheer  me 
up.  It  riz  before  me  in  th'  gamblin'  hells,  and  I. couldn't  play;  it 
would  come  'tween  me  an'  th'  barkeep,  an'  look  so  white  an' 
pleadin'  I  couldn't  swoller  th'  drinks ;  it  met  me  at  the  door 
of  the  dive,  an'  looked  so  sufferin'  an'  tear-wet  I  couldn't  go  in. 
Ev'rywhar  I  drifted  all  them  years  that  face  follered  me  like 
an  angel's,  cheerin'  me  in  sorrer,  savin'  me  from  th'  bad " 

"Turn  it  off,  Jack.  Somehow  my  eyes  waters  lookin'  at  the 
letters  so  keerfully.     Perceed." 

"I  hev  been  sick;  my  ole  army  wound  broke  out  an'  nearly 
took  me  over  th'  range.    That  face  has  been  with  me  soothin'  th' 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  143 

pain  when  death  made  everything  look  dark.  Yes,  I'm  comin' 
home  with  all  of  yer  boy  that  face  has  saved — comin'  to  take 
keer  of  ye.  I  hev  plenty  of  dust,  and  now  I'm  comin'  to  that 
face ;  comin'  back  to  be  near  it  an'  make  it  the  peacefulest  face 
in  all  them  diggins.  Ye  shan't  know  a  want  nor  do  anything; 
only  jest  be  near  me  with  that  face.  Good-bye  till  I  come.  God 
bless  ye.    Don't  fergit,  I'll  be  at  home  Thanksgivin'. 

"Yer  wanderin'  boy, 

"Jack." 

"How  will  that  pan,  messmate?" 

"Jack — I — thar!    Some  drops  fell  and  blurred  it — Jack — I— 
ye  see " 


"Pard 

"Why,  Jack!    What's  th'  matter?    Worse  agin?" 

"Pard — that  face — tell — her " 

"Jack,  don't  ye  know  me?  Speak  to  yer  ole  pard.  Whar 
must  I  send  it — whar  is  she  ?  Dead !  Poor  Jack !  ye'll  be  at  home 
Thanksgivin'  sure  enough.  May  that  face  be  'mong  th'  angel 
ones  that  welcomes  ye  !" 

The  big,  scarred  hands  closed  the  eyes  with  a  gentle  touch. 
Something  fell  on  the  calm  face  just  as,  a  moment  before,  it  fell 
upon  the  letter ;  then  Jack's  pard  went  out. 

The  sun  shimmered  down  through  a  crevice  and  pictured  on 
the  cabin  wall,  over  the  dead,  what  seemed  a  mother's  face  look- 
ing smilingly  down  upon  her  sleeping  boy.  Fancy  would  say  it 
was  ''that  face." 


The  Thanksgiving  Gourmand 


Regal  turkey,  ere  I  start, 
I  am  pledged  to  do  my  part; 
I'll  take  a  slice  from  off  thy  breast, 
And  eat  it  first,  for  that's  the  best. 
Hear  my  vow,  for  "here  I  go," 
Oh,  my  hash !    I  love  thee  so. 


1*4  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

By  those  beans  in  yonder  dish, 

By  that  bird  they  call  codfish, 

By  that  chicken  pie  sublime 

Which  was  deemed  enough  for  mine, 

By  my  appetite's  fierce  glow, 

Oh,  my  hash !    I  love  thee  so. 

By  that  pie  I've  longed  to  taste, 
But  in  longing  doomed  to  waste — 
By  all  hungry  looks  that  tell 
When  I  am  waiting  for  the  bell — 
By  my  stomach's  gnawing  woe — 
Oh,  my  hash !    I  love  thee  so. 

Oh,  my  comrades !    I  am  gone, 
Abuse  me  not  when  left  alone; 
Though  I  ate  with  dire  effect, 
Yet  there  is  a  little  left. 
Can  I  stop  much  sooner?     No! 
Oh,  my  hash?*   I  love  thee  so. 


Ingin  Summer     > 


By  Eva  Wilder  McGlasson. 


Jest  about  the  time  when  fall 

Gits  to  rattlin'  in  the  trees, 
An'  the  man  thet  knows  it  all 

'Spicions  frost  in  every  breeze, 
When  a  person  tells  hisse'f 

Thet  the  leaves  look  mighty  thin, 
Then  thar  blows  a  mellar  breaf — 

Ingin  summer's  hyere  agin ! 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  145 

Kind-uh  smoky-lookin'  blues 

Spin  across  the  mountain-side; 
An'  the  heavy  mornin'  dews 

Greens  the  grass  up  fur  and  wide. 
Natur'  raly  'pears  ez  ef 

She  wuz  layin   off  a  day — 
Sort-uh  drorin'  in  her  breaf 

'Fore  she  freezes  up  to  stay. 

Nary  lick  o'  work  /  strike 

Xong  about  this  time  o'  year  I 
I'm  a  sort-uh  slowly  like, 

Right  when  Ingin  summer's  here. 
Wife  an'  boys  kin  do  the  work, 

But  a  man  with  natchel  wit, 
Like  I  got,  kin  'ford  to  shirk, 

Ef  he  hes  a  turn  for  it. 

Time  when  grapes  set  into  ripe, 

All  I  ast  off  any  man 
Is  a  common  co'n-cob  pipe 

With  terbacker  to  my  han'. 
Then  jest  loose  me  whar  the  air 

Simmers  'crost  me,  wahm  an'  free! 
Promised  lands  ull  find  me  thar; 

Wings  ull  fahly  sprout  on  me! 

I'm  a-loungin'  round  on  thrones, 

Bossin'  worlds  f'om  shore  to  shore, 
When  I  stretch  my  marrer  bones 

Jest  outside  the  cabin  door ! 
An'  the  sunshine  seepin'  down 

On  my  old  head,  bald  an'  gray, 
'Pears  right  like  the  gilted  crown 

I  expect  to  w'ar  some  day. 


146  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

A  Thanksgiving  Sermon 


My  Friends: 

Thanksgiving  Day  comes,  by  statute,  once  a  year ;  to  the  hon- 
est man  it  comes  as  frequently  as  the  heart  of  gratitude  will  allow, 
which  may  mean  every  day,  or  once  in  seven  days,  at  least.  I 
know  that  occasionally,  in  meeting,  perhaps,  a  person  confesses 
that  he  is  a  poor,  miserable  sinner,  but  you  tell  that  person  the 
same  fact,  out  of  doors,  and  he  will  get  mad  and  tear  round  dread- 
fully. We  are  all  honest,  good,  conscientious  people,  my  friends, 
no  matter  what  anybody  says. 

Now,  I  propose,  my  friends,  to  state  a  few  of  the  things  for 
us  to  be  thankful  for — when  we  are  in  the  mood,  of  course ;  for 
when  we  are  not  inclined,  who  can  make  us  give  thanks  for  any- 
thing? We  should  be  thankful  that  we  know  more  than  any- 
body else ;  for,  are  we  not  capable  of  talking  and  giving  lectures 
upon  every  subject  ever  talked  of?  I  should  like  to  see  the  male 
or  female  in  this  audience,  who  didn't  know  a  great  deal  more 
than  anybody  has  any  idea  of ! 

We  should  be  thankful  that  we  are  all  good-looking.  Aint 
we?  Just  lock  around  this  audience,  and  see  if  you  can  "spot" 
the  person  who  is,  in  his  own  estimation,  not  good-looking.  It 
would  be  a  curious  study,  to  be  sure,  to  find  in  what  particular 
some  people  are  good-looking;  but  it's  none  of  our  personal  busi- 
ness if  a  man  has  carroty  hair,  eyes  like  a  new  moon,  nose  like 
a  split  pear,  mouth  like  a  pair  of  waffle-irons,  chin  like  a  Dutch 
churn,  neck  like  a  gander's,  and  a  body  like  a  crowbar ;  compara- 
tively, he  is  good-looking;  that  is,  there  are  homelier  men  and 
animals  than  he ;  so  everybody  is  good-looking  and  has  a  right  to 
put  on  airs.  Let  us  be  very  thankful,  my  friends,  that  this  is  so ; 
for,  otherwise,  some  of  us  would  be  shut  up  in  "homes  for  the 
scarecrows,"  which  government  would  have  to  provide. 

We  should  be  thankful  that  we  are  more  pious  than  anybody 
else.  That  we  are  pious  is  evident  from  the  manner  in  which 
we  treat  poor  creatures  who  have  most  unfortunately  been  driven 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  147 

to  sin;  from  the  fact  that  we  pay  our  preachers  occasionally,  and 
always  require  them  to  be  unexceptionable,  in  all  respects ;  from 
the  fact  that  we  don't  work  on  Sunday,  and  eat  the  big  dinners 
which  it  has  made  the  women-folks  almost  tired  to  death  to  pre- 
pare. Who  is  the  person  in  this  room  that  is  not  pious?  I  do 
not  care  to  know  him  for  the  present. 

We  should  give  thanks  that  our  house  is,  in  many  respects, 
superior  to  our  neighbors'.  True,  it  may  not  be  as  big,  nor  as 
fine-looking,  nor,  indeed,  as  attractive  generally ;  but  it  is  superior, 
nevertheless,  as  we  always  inform  any  man  who  wants  to  pur- 
chase,— we  should  be  very  thankful  that  we  can  turn  things  so 
favorably  for  our  own  interests. 

We  should  be  thankful  that  our  teachers,  and  editors,  and 
doctors,  and  lawyers,  are  such  superior  men,  as  we  learn  that 
they  are  when  they  come  to  die  and  have  their  epitaphs  written. 

We  should  be  thankful,  in  fact,  that  this  world  was  especially 
created  for  our  own  comfort,  convenience,  and  use ;  that  we  have 
a  perfect  right  to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  no  mat- 
ter if  these  do  conflict  with  some  other  persons'  wishes,  and  happi- 
ness, and  rights. 

I  hope  you  will  thank  me  for  this  recognition  of  your  good 
qualities,  your  rights,  your  glory ;  and  trust  I  shall  be  permitted  to 
say  of  myself,  when  I  retire, 

"Here  lies  an  honest  young  man." 


Thanksgiving 


By  Amelia  E.  Barr. 


"Have  you  cut  the  wheat  in  the  glowing  field, 

The  barley,  the  oats,  and  the  rye, 
The  golden  corn,  and  the  pearly  rice  ? 

For  the  winter  days  are  nigh." 
"We  have  reaped  them  all  from  shore  to  shore. 

And  the  grain  is  safe  on  the  threshing  floor." 


148  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

"Have  you  gathered  the  berries  from  the  vines, 

And  the  fruit  from  the  orchard  trees? 
The  dew  and  the  scent  from  the  rose  and  thyme 

In  the  hive  of  the  honey  bees?" 
"The  peach  and  the  plum  and  the  apples  are  ours, 

And  the  honeycomb  from  the  scented  flowers, 
The  wealth  of  the  snowy  cotton  field, 

And  the  gift  of  the  sugar  cane, 
The  savory  herb  and  the  nourishing  root, 

There  has  nothing  been  given  in  vain. 
We  have  gathered  the  harvest  from  shore  to  shore, 
And  the  measure  is  full  and  running  o'er." 

Then  lift  up  the  head  with  a  song! 

And  lift  up  the  hands  with  a  gift ! 
To  the  ancient  Giver  of  all 

The  spirit  in  gratitude  lift ! 
For  the  joy  and  the  promise  of  spring, 

For  the  hay  and  the  clover  sweet, 
The  barley,  the  rye,  and  the  oats, 

The  rice  and  the  corn  and  the  wheat, 
The  cotton  and  sugar  and  fruit, 

The  flowers  and  the  fine  honeycomb, 
The  country,  so  fair  and  so  free, 

The  blessing  and  glory  of  home, 
"Thanksgiving !    Thanksgiving !    Thanksgiving !" 

Joyfully,  gratefully  call, 
To  God,  the  "Preserver  of  Men," 

The  bountiful  Father  of  all. 


A  Miner's  Thanksgiving 


'Twere  out  in  Dead  Man's  Canyon,  where  we  was  diggin'  gold, 
We'd  washed  a  pile  o'  dust,  but  'twere  gittin'  mighty  cold. 
Our  branch  was  frozen  up,  an'  we  only  had  our  spring, 
So  we  thought  we'd  stop  our  diggin'  an'  every  other  thing. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  149 

/ 
There  was  only  two  pair  ov  us — Jim  Smith  an'  Bob  McKee, 

An  ornery  little  chap  called  Ned,  an'  Silas  Jones — that's  me. 

We  hed  a  cosy  camp  o'  logs,  an'  firewood  stacked  sky  high, 

An'  grub  enough  to  feed  us  all  till  winter'd  passed  us  by. 

One  day — an'  'twere  a  lovely  morn — when  we  was  loafin'  'round 
A-smokin'  an'  a-gassin',  an'  a-listenin'  to  the  sound 
Ov  the  squirrels'  barkin'  shatter,  Jim  Smith,  he  made  this  play, 
"Say,  Si,  y'  lazy  fellow,  d'ye  know  what  day's  to-day?" 

I  vum,  it  knocked  me  silly,  for  'twere  Thanksgivin'  Day, 
An'  my  thoughts  were  roamin'  backward  to  when  I  used  to  play 
Around  the  ol'  man's  homestead,  'way  down  in  dear  old  Alaine, 
Which  I  hed  left  in  anger  an'  hadn't  seen  again. 

I  remembered  ol'  Thanksgivin's,  an'  a  mist  came  in  my  eyes 
As  I  thought  ov  ma  a-bakin'  those  mince  an'  punkin  pies ; 
An'  I  saw  the  big,  fat  turkey,  a-sizzlin'  hot  an'  brown, 
An'  the  foamin'  jugs  ov  cider  with  which  we  washed  it  down. 

Then  says  I :  "We  ain't  no  larder  for  ter  rightly  celebrate, 
But  we'll  do  the  best  we  can,  an'  we'll  try  ter  do  it  straight. 
Now,  Bob,  you  shoot  a  sage  hen,  an'  Jim,  you  bile  that  squash, 
An'  I'll  make  a  pie  ter  please  yer."    An'  so  I  did,  b'gosh. 

The  hen  weren't  quite  a  turkey,  but  still  'twere  stuffed  with  sage ; 

But  the  pie,  it  were  a  corker,  for  as  cook  I  held  the  age. 

We  didn't  have  no  cider,  but  we  made  the  bugjuice  flow, 

An'  we  drank  the  toasts  in  bumpers  to  Thanksgivin's  long  ago. 

An'  as  the  firewood  crackled,  we  talked  ov  days  gone  by — 
An'  then  there'd  be  some  silence,  or  a  deep  an'  long-drawn  sigh. 
An'  so  in  Dead  Man's  canyon,  'mid  mountains  capped  with  snow 
We  hed  a  real  Thanksgivin'  like  we  knowed  long  years  ago. 


150  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Elder  Sniffles's  Thanksgiving  Dinner 


By  Frances  M.  Whitcher. 


"Elder  Sniffles,  let  me  give  you  another  piece  o'  the  turkey." 

"I'm  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Maguire ;  you  probably  recollect 
that  I  remarked  in  my  discourse  this  morning  that  individuals 
were  too  prone  to  indulge  in  an  excessive  indulgence  in  creature 
comforts  on  thanksgiving  occasions.  In  view  of  the  lamentable 
fact  that  the  sin  of  gormandizing  is  carried  to  a  sinful  excess  on 
this  day,  I,  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel,  deem  it  my  duty  to  be 
unusually  abstemious  on  such  occasions ;  nevertheless,  considering 
the  peculiar  circumstances  under  which  I  am  placed  this  day,  I 
think  I  will  i,raive  objections  and  take  another  small  portion  of 
the  turkey." 

"That's  right,  Elder — what  part  will  you  take  now?" 

"Well,  I'm  not  particular ;  a  small  quantity  of  the  breast,  with 
a  part  of  a  leg  and  some  of  the  stuffing,  will  be  quite  sufficient." 

"Pass  the  cramberries  to  Elder  Sniffles,  Jeff — Elder,  help 
yourself;  wife,  give  the  Elder  some  more  o'  the  turnip  sass  and 
potater." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Maguire.  I  am  an  advocate  for  a  vegetable 
diet — and  have  always  maintained  that  it  is  more  congenial  to  in- 
dividuals of  sedentary  habits  and  intellectual  pursuits,  like  myself, 
than  animal  food." 

"Jeff,  my  son,  pass  the  bread.  Sister  Bedott,  send  your  plate 
for  some  more  o'  the  turkey." 

"No,  I'm  obleeged  to  ye — I've  had  sufficient." 

"Jeff,  cut  the  chicken-pie." 

"Sure  enough — I  almost  forgot  that  I  was  to  carve  the  pie. 
Aunt  Silly,  you'll  take  a  piece  of  it,  won't  you?" 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  dew  take  a  leetle  mite  on't.  I'm  a 
great  favoryte  o'  chicken-pie — always  thought  't  was  a  delightful 
beverage — don't  you,  Elder  Sniffles?" 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  151 

"A  very  just  remark,  Mrs.  Bedott— very,  indeed ;  chicken-pie 
is  truly  a  very  desirable  article  of  food." 

"Allow  me  to  help  you  to  some  of  it,  Elder." 

"Thank  you,  my  young  friend ;  as  I  before  remarked,  I  am 
entirely  opposed  to  an  immoderate  indulgence  of  the  appetite  at 
all  times,  but  particularly  on  thanksgiving  occasions —  and  am 
myself  ahvays  somewhat  abstemious.  However,  I  consider  it  my 
duty  at  the  present  time  to  depart,  to  some  extent,  from  the  usual 
simplicity  of  my  diet.  I  will,  therefore,  comply  with  your  request 
and  partake  of  the  chicken-pie." 

"Take  some  more  o'  the  cramberry  sass,  Elder ;  cramberries  is 
hulsome." 

"A  very  just  remark,  Mrs.  Maguire — they  are  so ;  neverthe- 
less, I  maintain  that  we  should  not  indulge  too  freely  in  even  the 
most  wholesome  of  creature  comforts ;  however,  since  you  desire 
it,  I  will  take  a  small  portion  more  of  the  cranberries." 

"Husband,  dew  pass  that  pickled  tongue — it  hain't  been 
touched — take  some  on't,  Elder  Sniffles." 

"I'm  obliged  to  you,  Mrs.  Maguire — but  I  confess  I  am  some- 
what fearful  of  taking  articles  of  that  description  upon  my  stom- 
ach, as  they  create  a  degree  of  acidity  which  is  incompatible  with 
digestion.  Is  it  not  so,  my  young  friend?  You  are  undoubtedly 
prepared  to  decide,  as  you  are,  I  believe,  pursuing  the  study  of  the 
medical  science." 

''I  think  you  are  altogether  mistaken,  Elder  Sniffles.  We 
should  always  take  a  due  proportion  of  acid  with  our  food,  in  or- 
der to  preserve  the  equilibrium  of  the  internal  economy,  and  pro- 
duce that  degree  of  effervescence  which  is  necessary  to  a  healthy 
secretion." 

"Exactly.  Your  view  of  the  subject  is  one  which  never 
struck  me  before ;  it  seems  a  very  just  one.  I  will  partake  of  the 
pickled  tongue  in  consideration  of  your  remarks." 

"Take  a  slice  on't  it,  Sister  Bedott.  You  seem  to  need  some 
tongue  to-day — your  oncommon  still." 


152  THANKSGIVIAG    CELEBRATIONS 

"What  a  musical  man  you  be,  brother  Magwire !  but  it  strikes 
me  when  an  indiwiddiwal  has  an  opportunity  o'  hearin'  intellecti- 
ble  conversation  they'd  better  keep  still  and  improve  it.  Ain't  it 
so,  Elder  Sniffles?" 

"A  very  just  remark,  Mrs.  Bedott ;  and  one  which  has  often 
occurred  to  my  own  mind." 

"Take  some  more  of  the  chicken-pie,  Elder  Sniffles." 
"Excuse  me,  my  young  friend;  I  will  take  nothing  more." 
"What !  you  don't  mean  to  give  it  up  yet,  I  hope,  Elder." 
"Indeed,  Mr.  Maguire,  I  assure  you  I  would  rather  not  take 
anything  more ;  for,  as  I  before  remarked,  I  am  decidedly  opposed 
to  excessive  eating  upon  this  day." 

"Well,  then,  we'll  have  the  pies  and  puddin's.  Jeff,  my  son, 
fly  round  and  help  your  mar  change  the  plates.  I'll  take  the 
puddin',  Melissy — you  may  tend  to  the  pies.  Jeff,  set  on  the 
cider.  So  here's  a  plum-puddin' — it  looks  nice — I  guess  you've 
had  good-luck  to-day,  wife.  Sister  Bedott,  you'll  have  some  on't?" 
"No;  I'm  obleeged  to  ye.  I've  got  ruther  of  a  headache  to- 
day, and  plum-puddin's  rich.  I  guess  I'll  take  a  small  piece  o' 
the  punkin-pie." 

"Elder  Sniffles,  you'll  be  helped  to  some  on't,  of  course?" 
"Indeed,  Mr.  Maguire,  the  practice  of  indulging  in  articles 
of  this  description  after  eating  meat  is  esteemed  highly  pernicious, 
and  I  inwardly  protest  against  it ;  furthermore,  as  Mrs.  Bedott 
has  very  justly  remarked,  plum-pudding  is  rich — however,  consid- 
ering the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  occasion,  I  will  for  once 
overstep  the  boundaries  which  I  have  prescribed  for  myself." 
"Am  I  to  understand  that  you'll  have  some,  or  not?" 
"I  will  partake,  in  consideration  of  the  time  and  place." 
"Jimmeni !  wife,  this  is  good  puddin'  as  I  ever  eat." 
"Elder  Sniffles,  will  you  take  some  o'  the  pie — here  is  a  mince- 
pie  and  punkin-pie." 

"I  will  take  a  portion  of  the  pumpkin-pie,  if  you  please,  Mrs. 
Maguire,  as  I  consider  it  highly  nutritious ;  but,  as  regards  the 
mince-pie,  it  is  an  article  of  food  which  I  deem  excessively  delete- 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  153 

rious  to  the  constitution,  inasmuch  as  it  is  composed  of  so  great  a 
variety  of  ingredients.  I  esteem  it  exceedingly  difficult  of  diges- 
tion.   Is  it  not  so,  my  young  friend?" 

"By  no  means,  Elder ;  quite  the  contrary — and  the  reason  is 
obvious.  Observe,  Elder,  it  is  cut  into  the  most  minute  particles ; 
hence  it  naturally  follows,  that  being,  as  it  were,  completely  cal- 
cined before  it  enters  the  system,  it  leaves,  so  to  speak,  no  labor 
to  be  performed  by  the  digestive  organs,  and  it  is  disposed  of 
without  the  slightest  difficulty." 

"Ah,  indeed !  your  reasoning  is  quite  new  to  me,  yet  I  confess 
it  to  be  most  satisfactory  and  lucid.  In  consideration  of  its  facil- 
ity of  digestion,  I  will  partake  also  of  the  mince-pie." 

"Wife,  fill  the  Elder  a  glass  o'  cider." 

"Desist!  Mrs.  Maguire,  desist,  I  entreat  you!  I  invariably 
set  my  face  like  a  flint  against  the  use  of  all  intoxicating  liquors 
as  a  beverage." 

"Jimmeni !  you  don't  mean  to  call  new  cider  an  intoxicatin' 
liquor,  I  hope.  Why,  man  alive,  it's  jest  made — hain't  begun  to 
work." 

"Nevertheless,  I  believe  it  to  be  exceedingly  insalubrious,  and 
detrimental  to  the  system.  Is  not  that  its  nature,  my  young 
friend?" 

"Far  from  it,  Elder — far  from  it.  Reflect  a  moment  ana  you 
will  readily  perceive  that,  being  the  pure  juice  of  the  apple — 
wholly  free  from  all  alcoholic  mixture — it  possesses  all  the  nutri- 
tive properties  of  the  fruit,  with  the  advantage  of  being  in  a  more 
condensed  form,  which  at  once  renders  it  much  more  agreeable, 
and  facilitates  assimilation." 

"Very  reasonable — very  reasonable,  indeed.  Mrs.  Maguire, 
you  may  fill  my  glass." 

"Take  another  slice  o'  the  puddin',  Elder  Sniffles." 

"No  more,  I'm  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Maguire." 

"Well,  won't  you  be  helped  to  some  more  o'  the  pie?" 

"No  more,  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Maguire." 

"But  you'll  take  another  glass  o'  cider,  won't  you?" 


154  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

"In  consideration  of  the  nutritious  properties  of  new  cider, 
which  your  son  has  abundantly  shown  to  exist,  I  will  permit  you 
to  replenish  my  glass." 

"So  you  won't  take  nothin'  more,  Elder?" 

"Nothing  more,  my  friends — nothing  more  whatsoever — for, 
as  I  have  several  times  remarked  during  the  repast,  I  am  an  in- 
dividual of  exceedingly  abstemious  habits — endeavoring  to  enforce 
by  example  that  which  I  so  strenuously  enjoin  by  precept  from 
the  pulpit,  to  wit — temperance  in  all  things." 


Farmer  John's  Thanksgiving  Day 


By  Isaac  F.  Eaton. 


Thanksgiving  Day  came  chill  and  bare, 

The  fields  were  brown,  the  trees  were  sere. 

And  snowflakes  gathered  in  the  air 
Foretold  the  winter  of  the  year. 

But  bright  the  fire,  and  full  the  bin, 

Each  thankful  heart  kept  glad  within. 

But  Farmer  John,  with  darkened  brow, 
Felt  not  the  gladness  of  the  day ; 

Not  to  his  hopes  had  sped  the  plow, 
And  cherished  plans  had  gone  astray. 

The  wished-for  gain  in  crop  and  herd, 

The  blight  and  murrain  had  deferred. 

And  to  his  wife  he  murmuring  said : 

"You  need  not  spread  the  feast  for  me; 

Let  others  lift  the  thankful  head 

Who  for  their  gifts  can  thankful  be. 

My  neighbors  can  enjoy  their  feast 

With  herds  and  flocks  and  stores  increased. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  155 

''Their  every  crop  was  full  in  ear, 

Their  herds  have  gained  in  foal  and  fleece, 
They  weigh  the  balance  of  the  year 

And  laugh  to  count  a  rich  increase. 
For  me,  the  months  they  come  and  go, 
They  find  me  poor,  they  leave  me  so." 

And  forth  into  the  fields  he  went, 

Caring  not  where  his  steps  might  stray, 

His  every  thought  was  discontent, 

His  every  word  reproached  the  day. 

"Let  others  offer  thanks,"  he  said, 

"Whose  paths  with  blossoms  thick  are  spread." 

He  passed  his  neighbor's  garnered  store, 
With  envy  marked  his  thronging  herds ; 

His  neighbor  met  him  at  the  door 

With  bursting  heart  and  sobbing  words. 

His  darling  boy,  his  pride,  his  all, 

Lay  white  beneath  the  funeral  pall. 

A  marble  mansion  rose  in  state, 

White-walled,  amid  its  clustering  trees. 

A  carriage  stood  before  the  gate 

With  shining  steeds  and  cushioned  ease. 

"He  sure  is  blest,"  said  Farmer  John, 

"For  whom  this  luxury  waits  upon." 

Within  he  saw  the  banquet  spread, 

The  board  was  set  with  rarest  cheer, 
The  waiters  stood  at  foot  and  head; 

He  saw  the  owner  then  appear. 
Weak  and  in  pain,  his  servants  bore 
Their  master  from  his  carriage  door. 


156  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Smote  with  his  sin,  he  blushed  in  shame, 
All  base  repinings  now  were  still, 

Content  he  turned  the  way  he  came, 
Back  to  his  own  low  cottage  sill. 

With  joy  beneath  its  porch  he  sees 

His  wife,  and  babes  about  her  knees. 

He  kissed  his  wife,  while  tears  he  shed, 
He  clasped  his  babies  to  his  breast: 

"While  I  have  strength  and  these,"  he  said, 
"More  than  my  neighbors  am  I  blessed. 

Set  forth  the  feast !     God's  gifts  shall  raise 

My  heart  to  Him  in  thankful  praise." 


Freedom's  Thanksgiving  Day 


By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 


Let  Columbia's  thankful  anthem  ring  to-day  from  sea  to  sea, 
For  'neath  the  sky  in  beauty  waves  the  banner  of  the  free ; 
Baptized  in  blood  at  Lexington,  the  nation  calls  it  blest, 
It  droops  not  to  a  foreign  foe,  it  owns  no  king's  behest ; 
Its  stars  reflect  new  glory  underneath  the  autumn  sky, 
Its  wedded  stripes  of  white  and  red  wide  to  the  breezes  fly; 
No  more  the  crimson  river  rolls  between  the  Blue  and  Gray, 
And  all  the  people  celebrate  the  land's  Thanksgiving  day. 

The  harvest  song  still  lingers  where  the  golden  waters  run 
Through  far  Dakota's  acres  to  the  seas  of  endless  sun, 
The  cities  teem  with  labor  for  the  workman's  eager  hand. 
Our  granaries  groan  with  richest  store,  no  hunger  in  the  land; 
The  cotter's  little  family  on  the  rugged  mountain  side 
Takes  up  the  song  of  plenty  till  it  echoes  far  and  wide, 
And  we  send  across  the  billows  as  they  ceaseless  rise  and  fall 
This  message  to  the  nations :  "We  have  food  enough  for  all !" 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  157 

God  smiles  upon  the  nation  that  has  set  a  people  free, 

We  worship  but  at  Freedom's  shrine  from  surging  sea  to  sea, 

The  boy  who  drives  the  cattle  home  across  the  mesa  bare 

Looks  up  with  pride  nor  feels  ashamed  beside  the  rich  man's  heir ; 

Our  navies  ride  the  oceans  with  our  starry  flag  unfurl'd, 

Our  traders  bear  their  cargoes  to  the  harbors  of  the  world; 

Aye,  back  to  us  from  lands  as  fair  and  distant  as  Cathay 

Come  argosies  that  helped  to  crown  this  glad  Thanksgiving  day. 

Old  Glory  proudly  waves  to-day  o'er  battlefields  afar, 
The  foreign  foe  hath  humbled  been  beneath  the  clouds  of  war; 
Aye,  every  star  that  dots  our  flag  upon  the  land  and  main 
Recounts  the  story  of  the  men  who  crushed  the  might  of  Spain ; 
No  longer  ride  her  boasted  fleets,  no  longer  flash  their  guns, 
The  seal  of  silence  hath  been  placed  on  them  by  Freedom's  sons ; 
With  victory  on  our  banners  fair  we  grateful  kneel  and  pray, 
And  thank  the  watchful  Father  for  this  proud  Thanksgiving  day. 

There's  plenty  in  the  southland  where  in  white  the  cotton  blows, 

There's  plenty  in  the  northland  'neath  Katahdin's  crest  of  snows, 

The  east  has  heard  the  reaper's  song  o'er  countless  fields  of  grain, 

The  golden  corn  has  gathered  been  in  many  a  western  plain; 

The  winter  has  no  terrors  for  the  land  we  dearly  love, 

The  skies  that  promise  happy  times  are  blue  and  bright  above ; 

Our  nation  in  its  splendor  can  take  up  the  glad  refrain: 

"O  Father,  Thou  hast  blessed  us.    Let  Thanksgiving  come  again !" 

O  bells  that  tell  the  story  of  our  country's  rise  to  fame, 
Ring  out  the  paeans  of  glory  'neath  the  flag  we  love  to  name ; 
With  plenty  all  around  we  can  lift  the  joyful  strain, 
And  the  harvest  song  is  echoed  in  the  nation's  heart  again ; 
Let  the  benediction  sweeping  o'er  the  land  from  shore  to  shore 
Shake  the  mountains  with  the  chorus :  "Praise  the  Lord  forever- 
more  ! 
Praise  our  Father  for  His  goodness,  reaching  far  from  sea  to  sea, 
He  has  blessed  us  as  a  nation ;  He  has  made  and  kept  us  free !" 


158  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

The  First  Thanksgiving 


"And  now,"  said  the  governor,  gazing 

Abroad  on  the  piled-up   store 
Of  the  sheaves  that  dotted  the  clearings 

And  covered  the  meadows  o'er, 
"  'Tis  meet  that  we  render  praises 

Because  of  this  yield  of  grain ; 
'Tis  meet  that  the  Lord  of  the  harvest 

Be  thanked  for  His  sun  and  rain. 

"And,  therefore,  I,  William  Bradford 

(By  the  grace  of  God,  to-day, 
And  the  franchise  of  this  people), 

Governor  of  Plymouth,  say, 
Through  virtue  of  vested  power, 

Ye  shall  gather  with  one  accord, 
And  hold  in  the  month  of  November 

Thanksgiving  unto  the  Lord. 

"So  shoulder  your  match-locks,  masters, 

There  is  hunting  of  all  degrees, 
And,  fishermen,  take  your  tackle 

And  scour  for  spoil  the  seas. 
And  maidens  and  dames  of  Plymouth, 

Your  delicate  crafts  employ 
To  honor  our  first  Thanksgiving 

And  make  it  a  feast  of  joy." 

At  length  came  the  day  appointed ; 

The  snow  had  begun  to  fall, 
But  the  clang  from  the  meeting-house  belfry 

Rang  merrily  over  all, 
And  summoned  the  folk  of  Plymouth, 

Who  hastened  with  one  accord 
To  listen  to  Elder  Brewster, 

As  he  fervently  thanked  the  Lord. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  159 

In  his  seat  sat  Governor  Bradford, 

Men,  matrons,  and  maidens  fair, 
Miles  Standish  and  all  his  soldiers 

With  corslet  and  sword  were  there, 
And  sobbing  and  tears  and  gladness 

Had  each  in  its  turn  the  sway ; 
For  the  grave  of  the  sweet  Rose  Standish 

O'ershadowed  Thanksgiving  day. 

And  when  Massasoit,  the  sachem, 

Sat  down,  with  his  hundred  braves, 
And  ate  of  the  varied  riches 

Of  gardens  and  woods   and  waves, 
And  looked  on  the  granaried  harvest, 

With  a  blow  on  his  brawny  chest, 
He  muttered,  "The  good  Great  Spirit 

Loves  His  white  children  best." 


My  Tumick's  Got  a  Pain' 


Fer  Thanksgiving  dinner  we 
Had  the  best  you  ever  see — 
Took  no  breakfast — not  a  bite — 
Jes'  saved  up  my  appetite, 
Till  they  filled  my  dinner-plate, 
Nen  I  jes'  sat  down  an'  ate. 

Turkey  !     Turkey !     Such  a  lot ! 
An'  purturnups,  steamin'  hot, 
An'  purtaters  !  stuffin',  too  ! 
Celery,  an'  ist  a  few 
Lima  beans,  but  they  wuz  grate, 
An'  I  ate,  an'  ate,  an'  ate. 


160  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Ma  ist  gave  me  everything, 
First  a  drumstick,  nen  a  wing, 
An'  some  dark  meat,  an'  some  light; 
Pa  he  said  it  wasn't  right ; 
But  I  was  feeling  just  first-rate, 
So  I  ate,  an'  ate,  an'  ate. 
*- 

Nen  we  had  plum-puddin',  too ; 
Ma  she  said  I'd  have  to  do 
Wif  ist  four  slices — pa  said,  "My! 
Hate  to  be  you  by-an'-bye !" 
But  'at  mince-pie  ist  wuz  grate — 
An'  I  ate,  an'  ate,  an'  ate. 

Nen  we  had  some  nuts  an'  cake — 

Seemed  somehow  I  couldn't  take 

Very  much,  but  rather  die, 

An'  not  eat  a  lot,  so  I 

Jes'  sailed  right  in  an'  done  first  rate, 

Ate,  an'  ate,  an'  ate,  an'  ate. 

Nen,  by-an'-bye  I  fell  asleep, 
First  thing  chased  me  was  a  sheep, 
Nen  a  lion  chased  me,  too ; 
An'  a  tiger  says,  "Say,  you, 
Guess  I'll  start  in  wif  your  feet, 
Little  boys  is  good  to  eat." 

Nen  a  big  black  snake  it  came, 
Said  to  me,  "Say,  what's  your  name?" 
Told  it  "Tommy," — snake  said,  "Oh! 
Guess  I'll  eat  you  awful  slow !" 
Nen  I  cried  a  dreadful  lot — 
Snake  said,  "Eat  you,  cry -or  not!" 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  itii 

Nen  I  waked  up  an'  I  saw 
There  was  ma  an    there  was  pa, 
An'  the  doctor  shook  his  head — 
"Indegestum,"  doctor  said ; 
"Get  him  all  right  soon  again." 
Oh,  my  tumick's  got  a  pain ! 


Tit  For  Tat 


By  Laura  F.  Armitage. 


"Turkey,  how  mad  you  grow !" 

Said  little  Tommy  Snow, 
"You  seem  to  think  this  place  belongs  to  you. 

You  want  no  one  about, 

But  you'll  not  drive  me  out, 
My  grandma  owns  this  yard  and  owns  you,  too. 

"You  look  so  very  proud, 

And  with  a  voice  so  loud, 
You  scold  at  me  whene'er  I  come  this  way. 

You  needn't  feel  so  grand, 

We'll  soon  take  you  in  hand, 
For  very  soon  will  come  Thanksgiving  day." 

And  soon  the  day  had  come, 

And  at  his  grandma's  home 
The  uncles,  aunts,  and  cousins,  all  did  meet. 

Mr.  Turkey  was  on  hand, 

No  longer  proud  and  grand, 
But  stuffed  and  roasted  brown  for  them  to  eat. 


162  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Such  puddings,  pies,  and  cakes 

No  one  but  grandma  makes, 
And  Tommy  ate,  and  ate  of  every  one. 

But  when  'twas  time  for  bed 

He  had  an  aching  head, 
And  this  he  did  not  think  was  any  fun. 

And  when  he  closed  his  eyes, 

He  heard,  to  his  surprise, 
The  sound  of  "gobble,  gobble,"  near  his  bed. 

And  looking  up,  he  spied 

The  turkey,  big  with  pride, 
With  spreading  wings,  and  angry,  shaking  head. 

"Now,  Tommy  Snow,"  said  he, 

"You  thought  you'd  eaten  me, 
But  once  you  see,  you  thought  what  wasn't  true. 

My  day  at  last  is  here, 

Well  have  you  cause  to  fear, 
For  soon  a  dinner  fine  I'll  make  of  you." 

Then  Tommy  gave  loud  cries, 

And  opening  his  eyes, 
He  saw  his  mother  standing  by  his  side. 

"O  mother,"  Tommy  said,    . 

"Where  is  he?     Is  he  dead? 
The  turkey  did  not  eat  me,  but  he  tried." 

"Ah !  Tommy,  do  not  fear, 

There  is  no  turkey  here, 
You  were  but  dreaming  then,"  his  mother  said. 

"And  next  Thanksgiving  day, 

Don't  eat  so  much,  I  pray, 
And  then  you'll  not  see  turkeys  round  your  bed." 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  163 

A  Child's  Thanksgiving 


By  Kate;  Whiting  Patch. 


I  thank  Thee,  Father  in  the  skies, 

For  this  dear  home  so  warm  and  bright; 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  sunny  days 
And  for  the  sleepy,  starry  night. 

I  thank  Thee  for  my  father's  arms, 
So  big  and  strong  to  hold  me  near; 

I  thank  Thee  for  my  mother's  face; 
I  thank  Thee  for  my  dolly  dear. 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  little  birds 
That  eat  my  crumbs  upon  the  sill; 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  pretty  snow 

That's  coming  down  so  soft  and  still. 

O  Father,  up  there  in  the  skies, 

Hear  me  on  this  Thanksgiving  Day, 

And  please  read  in  my  little  heart 
The  "thank  you's"  I  forget  to  say. 


The  Turkey  of  Life 


By  Wilbur  Duntl,ey. 


Now  it  doesn't  seem  right  to  sing  a  song  to  make  you  all  feel  blue, 
But,  speaking  of  turkey  and  Thanksgiving-time,  did  it  ever  occur 

to  you 
That  for  years  and  years,  as  well  as  to-day,  Dame  Fortune  has 

whetted  her  knife 
To  carve  and   distribute   in  unequal   chunks   the  hot,   steaming 

turkey  of  life? 


164  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Some  folks  are  born  with  proverbial  spoons,  get  all  the  white 

meat  from  the  breast — 
When  their  jackets  are  stuffed  with  things  that  are  good  they  don't 

care  a  snap  for  the  rest; 
Some  folks  get  the  wings  of  joy  and  content,  and  soar  with  them 

all  of  their  life, 
And  some  of  them  nibble  and  pick  all  their  days  at  the  bare 

bone  of  trial  and  strife. 

Dame  Fortune  is  fickle  and  heartless  and  cold,  she  doesn't  do  the 

job  to  suit  us, 
For  the  way  she  has  dealt  out  the  turkey  of  life  has  caused  lots 

of  trouble  and  fuss ; 
Some  are  in  luck  if  their  Thanksgiving  bird  is  beef-stew  and 

bread  on  the  side, 
And  lots  of  us  now  are  content  with  a  pull  at  the  "wish-bone"  all 

brittle  and  dried. 


John  White's  Thanksgiving 


"Thanksgiving! — for  what?" — and  he  muttered  a  curse; 
"For  the  plainest  of  food  and  an  empty  purse ; 
For  a  life  of  hard  work  and  the  shabbiest  clothes ; 
But  it's  idle  to  talk  of  a  poor  man's  woes ! 
Let  the  rich  give  thanks ;  it  is  they  who  can ; 
There  is  nothing  in  life  for  a  laboring  man." 

So  said  John  White  to  his  good  wife,  Jane, 
And  o'er  her  face  stole  a  look  of  pain. 
"Nothing,  dear  John?"     And  he  thought  again, 
Then  glanced  more  kindly  down  on  Jane. 
"I  was  wrong,"  he  said ;  "I'd  forgotten  you ; 
And  I've  my  health,  and  the  baby,  too." 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  165 

And  the  baby  crowed — 'twas  a  bouncing  boy — 
And  o'er  Jane's  face  came  a  look  of  joy; 
And  she  kissed  her  John  as  he  went  away 
And  he  said  to  himself  as  he  worked  that  day : 
"I  was  wrong,  very  wrong;  I'll  not  grumble  again, 
I  should  surely  be  thankful  for  Baby  and  Jane." 


The  Thanksgiving  Chicken 


Come  here,  my  darlin'  dollie,  my  Mary  Belle,  my  dear, 

I've  dot  some'n  the  funnies'  to  whisper  in  your  ear. 

I  couldn't  tell  nobody,  my  darlin',  'cep'in'  you, 

For  mamma  said  not  tell  it ;  but  she  won't  care  for  you, 

Because  you  couldn't  tell  it  not  even  if  you  wanted  to, 

For  no  one  can  understand  your  talk  but  your  darlin'  mamma  true. 

It's  'bout  the  very  chicken  we  have  for  dinner  to-day ; 

And,  oh,  my  dear,  it  came  about  in  the  funniest  sort  of  a  way ! 

There  was  once  a  'ittle  chicken,  not  near  as  big  as  two  eggs, 

The  pittiest  'ittle  white  chicky,  with  'ittle  yellow  legs. 

When  the  'ittle  sweety  chicky  was  a  tiny  wee  bit  of  a  one, 

It  would  come  right  f roo  the  crack  in  the  fence  to  play ;  and  had 

lots  of  fun, 
A-playin'  with  our  chickies,  and  eatin'  with  'em  too. 
And  would  you  b'lieve,  you  could  almost  see  it  as  it  grew. 
At  night  it  went  home  to  sleep  under  its  mamma's  wing. 
But  all  the  time,  my  dollie,  it  grew  like  anyfing ! 
So,  once,  Thanksgivin'  day,  the  little  chicky  came 
To  play  wiv  our  chickies,  as  every  day  the  same. 
The  chickies  had  an  extra  dinner,  that  bright  Thanksgivin'  day; 
So  chick  took  dinner  wiv  ours  in  the  very  same  way. 
So  they  eat  and  eat  and  eat,  and  had  the  mos'est  fun. 
I'll  tell  you  what,  when  the  chicky  went  to  go  froo  the  crack  for 

home 
I  heard  the  awf'lest  squeelin',  and  I  ran  to  see  what  'twas  about, 
And  there  in  the  crack  stuck  chicky  just  half  way  in  and  out! 


166  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Straightway  I  went  up  to  him — you  ought  to  see  him  pick — 
He  was  in  'at  crack,  I  tell  you,  and  oh,  how  he  did  stick. 
So  then  I  pushed  him  one  way,  and  then  I  pulled  him  back, 
And,  dollie,  I  tell  you  the  chicky  come  out  on  our  side  of  the  crack. 
And  so  the  little  chicky  couldn't  get  froo  the  fence  again, 
And  it  grew  up  with  our  chickens ;  and,  Mary  Belle,  then,  when 
Thanksgivin'  come  round  this  time,  my  mamma  says :  "Why,  that 
Is  the  nicest  chicken  of  'em  all ;  it's  so  pretty  and  fat." 
So  she  told  the  cook  to  prepare  that  chicken  for  dinner  to-day, 
And,  dolly,  'bout  that  chicky  was  just  that  very  way. 


Thanksgiving 


By  Edwin  Markham. 


I  thank  Thee,  Father,  for  this  sky, 
Wherein  Thy  little  sparrows  fly; 
For  unseen  hands  that  build  and  break 
The  cloud-pavilions  for  my  sake,— 
This  fleeting  beauty  high  and  wild, 
Toward  which  I  wonder  as  a  child. 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  strengthening  hills, 
That  give  bright  spirit  to  the  rills ; 
For  blue  peaks  soaring  up  apart, 
To  send  down  music  on  the  heart ; 
For  treetops  wavering  soft  and  high, 
Writing  their  peace  against  me  sky; 
For  forest  farings  that  have  been; 
For  this  fall  rain  that  shuts  me  in, 
Giving  to  my  low  little  roof 
The  sense  of  home,  secure,  aloof. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  167 

And  thanks  for  morning's  stir  and  light, 
And  for  the  folding  hush  of  night; 
For  those  high  deities  that  spread 
The  star-filled  chasm  overhead; 
For  elfin  chemistries  that  yield 
The  green  fires  of  the  April  field; 
For  all  the  foam  and  surge  of  bloom; 
For  leaves  gone  glorious  to  their  doom, — 
All  the  wild  loveliness  that  can 
Touch  the  immortal  in  a  man. 

Father  of  Life,  I  thank  Thee,  too, 
For  old  acquaintance,  near  and  true, — 
For  friends  who  came  into  my  day 
And  took  the  loneliness  away; 
For  faith  that  held  on  to  the  last ; 
For  all  sweet  memories  of  the  past, — 
Dear  memories  of  my  dead  that  send 
Long  thoughts  of  life  and  of  life's  end, — 
That  make  me  know  the  light  conceals 
A  deeper  world  that  it  reveals. 


Tanksgibbin  Turkey 


By  Jean  Havez. 


On  de  night  befo'  Tanks-gib-bin — Oh,  I  tells  yo'  things  looked 

blue; 

I 

Dere  was  Mose  an'  me  an'  Bill  an'  John,  an'  ole  Aunt  Liza,  too — 
Since  de  day  dat  I  was  bo'n  yo'  see,  we  alius  looked  ahead 
An'  watched  fo'  dat  ere  turkey  wif  a  putty  comb  so  red. 
But  Mose  an'  Bill  was  out  o'  work,  an'  me  an'  John  had  spent 
Mos'  every  nickel  dat  we  had  to  pay  th'  shanty  rent — 
An'  as  we  sat  dere  thin-kin,  sah,  th'  tears  waz  in  our  eyes, 
Dat  turkey  grew  an'  grew,  sah,  till  it  reached  a  monstrous  size, 


168  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

An'  up  spoke  Mose — jus1  wait  fo'  Sam,  he'll  fix  th'  matter  right — 

If  he  goes  out  fo'  turkey,  he'll  fetch  it  sho  to-night. 

Den  in  come  Sam,  an'  Mose  spoke  up :  "We've  got  to  hab  sum 

game ;     . 
To-morrer  is  Tanks-gib-bin,  we  mus'  preservate  de  name, 
We  ought  to  hab  a  turkey,  an'  we  waited  yer  for  you, 
To  see  if  yo'  knowed  any  fing  in  dis  world  we  could  do." 
Den  Sam  he  grabbed  de  bigges'  bag  an'  out  de  do'  he  went, 
An'  Mose  said,  "Whar's  that  niggah  gone?  why  he  ain'  got  a 

cent." 
But  putty  soon  we  heard  a  noise  an'  Sam  came  trampin'  in, 
His  eyes  a  kinder  lafhn  and  his  face  chuck  full  o'  sin; 
He  dropped  his  bag  an'  looked  aroun'  an'  den  he  closed  de  do', 
An'  out  steps  Mistah  Turkey,  an'  he  struts  aroun'  de  flo'. 
Well,  we  didn'  ast  no  questions,  an'  ole  Sam  he  didn'  say 
Jus'  where  he  got  dat  turkey  dat  we  ate  Tanks-gib-bin  Day. 


The  Gossip  of  the  Nuts 


Said  the  Shellbark  to  the  Chestnut, 

"Is  it  time  to  leave  the  burr?" 
"I  don't  know,"  replied  the  Chestnut, 

"There's  Hazel  Nut ;  ask  her. 
I  don't  care  to  pop  my  nose  out 

Till  Jack  Frost  unlocks  the  door; 
Besides,  I'm  in  no  hurry, 

To  increase  the  squirrel's  store. 
A  telegram  from  Peanut  says 

That  she  is  on  the  way, 
And  the  Pecan  Nuts  are  ripening 

In  Texas,  so  they  say." 
Just  here  the  little  Beech  Nut, 

In  his  three-cornered  hat, 
Remarked,   in  tiny,   piping  voice: 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  of  that, 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  ■■  169 

For  then  my  charming  cousin, 

So  very  much  like  me, 
Miss  Chinquapin,  will  come  with  them, 

And  so  happy  I  shall  be." 
Then  Butternut  spoke  up  and  said: 

"  'Twill  not  be  long  before 
I'll  have  to  move  my  quarters 

To  the  farmer's  garret  floor; 
With  Hickory  and  Walnut 

Good  company  I'll  keep, 
And  there  until  Thanksgiving 

Together  we  shall  sleep." 
Said  the  Shellbark :  "I  am  tired 

Of  being  cooped  up  here, 
I  want  to  go  to  see  the  world; 

Pray,  what  is  there  to  fear? 
I'll  stay  up  here  no  longer, 

I'll  just  go  pouncing  down; 
So,  good-bye,  Sister  Chestnut, 

We'll  meet  again  in  town." 


Signs  of  the  Times 


By  Paul  Laursncs  Dunbar. 


Air  a-gittin'  cool  an'  coolah, 

Frost  a-comin'  in  de  night, 
Hicka  nuts  an'  wa'nuts  fallin', 

Possum  keepin'  out  ob  sight; 
Tu'key  struttin'  in  de  ba'nya'd — 

Nary  step  so  proud  ez  his, 
Keep  on  struttin',  Mistah  Tu'key, 

You  do'  know  whut  time  it  is. 


170  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

Cidah  press  commence  a-squeakin' 

Eatin'  apples  sto'ed  away, 
Chillin  swa'min'  'roun'  lak  ho'nets 

Huntin'  aigs  among  de  hay. 
Mistah  Tu'key  keep  on  gobblin' 

At  de  geese  a-flyin'  souf. 
Umph,  dat  bird  do'  know  whut's  comin'; 

Ef  he  did  he'd  shet  his  mouf. 

Punkin  gittin'  good  an'  yallah 

Make  me  open  up  my  eyes ; 
Seems  lak  it's  a-lookin'  at  me 

Jes'  a-la'in'  der  sayin'  "pies." 
Tu'key  gobbler  gwine  'roun'  blowin', 

Gwine  'roun'  gibbin'  his  sass  an'  slack; 
Keep  on  talkin',  Mistah  Tu'key, 

You  ain't  seed  no  almanac. 

Fa'mer  walkin'  throo  de  barnyard, 

Seein'  how  t'ings  is  comin'  on, 
Sees  ef  all  de  fowls  is  fatt'nin' — 

Good  times  comin'  sho's  you  bo'n. 
Heah's  dat  tu'key  gobbler  braggin', 

Den  his  face  break  in  a  smile — 
Nebbah  min',  you  sassy  rascal, 

He's  gwine  nab  you  atter  while. 

Choppin'  suet  in  de  kitchen, 

Stonin'  raisins  in  de  hall, 
Beef  a-cookin'  fo'  de  mince-meat, 

Spices  groun' — I  smell  'em  all. 
Look  heah,  Tu'key,  stop  dat  gobblin' 

You  ain't  larned  de  sense  ob  feah; 
You  ol'  fool,  yo'  naik's  in  dan j ah, 

Do  you  know  Thanksgibin's  heah? 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  171 

The  Night  Before  Thanksgiving 


By  Eva  Lovett  Carson. 


'Twas  the  night  before  Thanksgiving, 

And  the  turkeys  that  were  living 
Sat  a-mourning  in  the  hen-house  for  the  turkeys  that  lay  dead ; 

For  the  dawning  of  the  morrow, 

That  to  them  brought  only  sorrow, 
To  the  inmates  of  the  farm-house  brought  a  jolly  time  instead. 

There  was  Billy  and  his  brother, 

His  four  sisters  and  his  mother, 
And  his  father,  who's  the  master,  although  we  place  him  last ; 

And  his  aunts,  and  all  his  cousins, 

By  the  dozens  and  the  dozens, 
Come  to  eat  Thanksgiving  dinner,  as  they'd  come  Thanksgivings 

past. 

There  was  running  to  and  fro,  then, 

All  the  folks  were  on  the  go,  then, 
And  they  turned  out  cakes  and  puddings,  and  pies,  too,  by  the 
score ; 

For  when  uncles,  aunts  and  cousins, 

By  the  dozens  and  the  dozens, 
Come  to  dine,  you  always  find  you  wish  you'd  made  a  little  more. 

While  Thanksgiving  Eve  was  dying, 

While  the  turkeys  sat  a-crying, 
Little  Billy  stole  through  pantries  to  gaze  at  goodies  rare ; 

Where  the  rows  of  tempting  dishes, 

Made  to  suit  all  kinds  of  wishes, 
And  the  sauces,  jams  and  jellies  gave  a  fragrance  to  the  air. 


172  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Billy  stood  with  mouth  wide  open, 

Though  a  word  he  had  not  spoken, 
But  his  sighs  of  satisfaction  were  as  eloquent  as  speech; 

And  he  crept  a  little  nearer, 

As  to  see  a  little  clearer, 
And  with  grimy  finger  lifted  he  began  to  sample  each. 

Jam,  cakes  and  pies  he  rifled; 

With  the  jellies,  too,  he  trifled; 
Of  the  custards  and  the  sauces  he  took  such  a  taste  to  try, 

But   a   sudden   stopped,   espying, 

On  the  shelf  above  him  lying, 
A  larger  dish,  close  covered  against  his  prying  eye. 

'Twas  the  queen  of  all  the  dinner ! 

Billy  wished  that  he  felt  thinner, 
As  he  gazed  on  the  plum  pudding,  in  its  beauty  and  its  pride. 

And  he  whispered,  "Now,  I  wonder, 

If  a  little  bit  from  under 
Would  be  ever  missed — a  tiny  bit  from  off  the  under  side !" 

But  one  piece  led  to  another, 

It  was  strange  he  didn't  smother, 
As  he  filled  himself  with  pudding  in  a  most  amazing  way; 

Till  he  feebly  muttered :  "Dear  me ! 

It's  queer  they  didn't  hear  me ; 
But  I  think  perhaps  I've  had  enough — until  Thanksgiving  Day!" 

But,  alas !  when  dawn  was  breaking, 

Little  Billy  lay  a-quaking, 
For  the  jams,  and  cakes,  and  jellies  had  been  haunting  him  in 
dreams ; 

And  the  pudding  had  been  dancing, 

And   retreating  and   advancing, 
In  a  way  that  isn't  nearly  half  so  funny  as  it  seems ! 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  173 

Well,  to  make  the  story  shorter, 

When  his  mother  brought  cold  water, 
And  bathed  her  darling's  face  and  hands,  and  gave  him  bitter  stuff, 

He  said,  weeping,  "Ah,  I  see  how 

Much  better  it  would  be,  now, 
When  you're  eating  pudding,  not  to  try  to  eat  more  than  enough." 

And  when  all  the  aunts  and  cousins, 

By  the  dozens  and  the  dozens, 
Met  to  eat  Thanksgiving  dinner,  little  Billy  lay  abed — 

Lay  and  thought,  in -bitter  sorrow, 

That  the  dawning  of  this  morrow, 
That  should  bring  a  glorious  dinner,  brought  a  dose  of  oil  instead. 

And  while  Billy  lay  a-groaning, 

All  the  turkeys  stopped  their  moaning, 
For  they  said,  "This  gleam  of  comfort  has  come  to  soothe  our 
moans. 

That  detestible  young  Billy, 

Who  has  chased  us,  called  us  silly, 
Will  never  get  a  chance  to  gloat  o'er  our  relations'  bones !" 


A  Thanksgiving  Wooing 


By  Minna  Irving. 


The  frost  was  on  the  cottage  pane, 

The  skies  were  gray  and  chill ; 
But  with  a  trembling  hand  she  smoothed 

Her  kerchief's  dainty  frill. 
For  then  she  saw  the  youthful  squire 

Dismounting  in  the  snow, 
In  velvet  coat  and  buckled  shoes, 

Thanksgiving  long  ago. 


174  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

While  with  her  wrinkled  sire  he  talked 

Of  weather  and  of  wheat, 
His  ear  was  ever  strained  to  catch 

The  music  of  her  feet. 
Her  dimpled  arms  were  deep  in  flour, 

Her  rounded  cheeks  aglow; — 
Her  father  slept ; — he  stole  a  kiss, 

Thanksgiving  long  ago. 

His  stately  mother  and  her  guests 

Were  waiting  at  the  Hall 
Before  the  feast  in  silver  served ; 

But  he   forgot  them  all, 
And  at  the  farmer's  humble  board, 

With  curly  head  bent  low. 
He  called  a  courtly  blessing  down, 

Thanksgiving  long  ago. 

Clear  rose  the  moon  above  the  woods 

And  twilight  veiled  the  farm ; 
But  still  he  lingered  at  the  gate, 

The  bridle  on  his  arm. 
"Oh,  bake  and  brew  for  me  alone, 

Be  mine  for  weal  or  woe; — 
I  love  you,  dear,"  he  softly  said, 

Thanksgiving  long  ago. 

In  yonder  carven  frame  she  stands, 

In  pearls  and  blue  brocade ; 
And  still  tradition  fondly  keeps 

The  pumpkin  pies  she  made, 
And  tells  again  the  story  sweet, 

When  granaries  overflow, — 
Of  how  the  squire  a-wooing  went, 

Thanksgiving  long  ago. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  175 

Thank  the  Creator,  Not  the  Created 


A  little  boy  had  sought  the  pump 

From  whence  the  sparkling  water  burst, 
And  drank  with  eager  joy  the  draught 

That  kindly  quenched  his  raging  thirst: 
Then  gracefully  he  touched  his  cap, — 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Pump,"  he  said, 
"For  this  nice  drink  you've  given  me!" 

(This  little  boy  had  been  well  bred.) 

Then  said  the  Pump,  "My  little  man, 

You're  welcome  to  what  I  have  done; 
But  I  am  not  the  one  to  thank, — 

I  only  help  the  water  run." 
"O,  then,"  the  little  fellow  said, 

(Polite  he  always  meant  to  be,) 
"Cold  Water,  please  accept  my  thanks; 

You  have  been  very  kind  to  me." 

"Ah!"  said  Cold  Water,  "don't  thank  me; 

Far  up  the  hill-side  lives  the  Spring 
That  sends  me  forth  with  generous  hand 

To  gladden  every  living  thing." 
"I'll  thank  the  Spring,  then,"  said  the  boy, 

And  gracefully  he  bow'd  his  head. 
'O,  don't  thank  me,  my  little  man," 

The  Spring  with  silvery  accents  said, — > 

"O,  don't  thank  me;  for  what  am  I 

Without  the  dew  and  summer  rain? 
Without  their  aid  I  ne'er  could  quench 

Your  thirst,  my  little  boy,  again." 
"O,  well,  then,"  said  the  little  boy, 

"I'll  gladly  thank  the  Rain  and  Dew." 
"Pray,  don't  thank  us ;  without  the  Sun 

We  could  not  fill  one  cup  for  you." 


176  THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS 

"Then,  Mr.  Sun,  ten  thousand  thanks 
For  all  that  you  have  done  for  me." 

"Stop!"  said  the  Sun,  with  blushing  face; 
"My  little  fellow,  don't  thank  me : 

'Twas  from  the  ocean's  mighty  stores 
I  drew  the  draught  I  gave  to  thee." 

"O,  Ocean,  thanks,  then!"  said  the  boy; 

It  echo'd  back,  "Not  unto  me, — 

"Not  unto  me;  but  unto  Him 

Who  form'd  the  depths  in  which  I  lie; 
Go,  give  thy  thanks,  my  little  boy, 

To  Him  who  will  thy  wants  supply." 
The  boy  took  off  his  cap,  and  said, 

In  tones  so  gentle  and  subdued, 
"O  God,  I  thank  Thee  for  this  gift; 

Thou  art  the  Giver  of  all  good." 


His  Riches 


By  Lillian  Grey. 


"  'Tis  a  poor  Thanksgiving,"  said  Farmer  Jack ; 

"For  the  crops  have  failed  and  my  pet  horse  died. 
My  heart's  too  bitter  for  thankfulness; 

There  is  nothing  but  trouble  and  loss !"  he  cried. 
"Oh,  no !"  said  Mary,  his  cheerful  wife ; 

"You  have  me  and  the  children  left  beside!" 

A^smile  swept  over  the  husband's  face; 

"We  will  keep  the  feast ;  there  shall  be  no  lack. 
The  Lord  forgive  my  hasty  words ! 

Forget  them,  Mary,  I  take  them  back. 
Since  you  and  the  children  my  riches  are, 

I'm  a  millionaire !"  said  Farmer  Jack. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  177 

A  Country  Thanksgiving 


Harvest  is  home.     The  bins  are  full, 

The  barns  are  running  o'er  ; 
Both  grains  and  fruits  we've  garnered  in 

Till  we've  no  space  for  more. 
We've  worked  and  toiled  through  heat  and  cold.. 

To  plant,  to  sow,  to  reap ; 
And  now  for  all  this  bounteous  store 

Let  us  Thanksgiving  keep. 


The  nuts  have  ripened  on  the  trees, 

The  golden  pumpkins  round 
Have  yielded  to  our  industry 

Their  wealth  from  out  the  ground. 
The  cattle  lowing  in  the  fields, 

The  horses  in  their  stalls, 
The  sheep  and  fowls  all  gave  increase 

Until  our  very  walls 
Are  bending  out  with  God's  good  gifts. 

And  now  the  day  is  here 
When  we  should  show  the  Giver  that 

We  hold  these  mercies  dear. 


We  take  our  lives,  our  joys,  our  wealth, 

Unthanking  every  day  ; 
If  we  deserve  or  we  do  not, 

The  sun  it  shines  alway. 
So  in  this  life  of  daily  toil, 

That  leaves  short  time  to  pray, 
With  brimming  hearts  let's  humbly  keep 

One  true  Thanksgiving  Day. 


178  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

And  if  there  be  some  sorrowing  ones, 
Less  favored  than  we  are, 

A  generous  gift  to  them,  I  think, 
Is  just  as  good  as  prayer. 


Give  Thanks 


■By  Doane  Robinson. 


The  drouth  hez  burned  the  corn  up  but  there  hain't  been  any  flood- 
Give  thanks. 

The  frost  hez  ketched  the  fodder,  but  it's  soddered  up  the  mud — 

Give  thanks. 

The  hosses  died  with  murrain  an'  the  hail  hez  tuck  the  wheat, 
But  their  value  wouldn't  winter  'em,  ner  tuck  the  grain  to  mill, 

An'  we've  got  enough  provender  fer  all  the  folk  to  eat, 

An'  there's  tol'able  fair  walkin'  out  along  the  pike-road  still — 

Give  thanks. 

We  are  ruther  short  fer  firewood,  but  the  weather  doctor  he 

Is  a-stavin'  off  the  winter,  an'  the  'commodatin'  banks 
Each  hez  tuck  a  chattel  morgige  fer  the  interust  thet  we 

Wuz  compelled  to  stand  'em  off  fer,  an'  fer  that  we're  givin' 
thanks — 

Give  thanks. 

We  hev  done  the  best  we  knowed  how,  an'  our  consciences  are 

clear, 
We  can  sing  instead  of  cryin'  an'  yit  can  shed  a  tear 
Fer  the  poor  destrestful  critters  thet  are  rasslin'  with  the  cuss 
Of  trouble  an'  misfortunes  which  the  Lord  hez  kep'  from  us — 

Give  thanks,  give  thanks. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  179 

Tommy's  Dinner 


By  George  Cooper. 


Wee  Tommy  sat  down  to  his  holiday  dinner ; 
You  saw  by  degrees  that  he  didn't  grow  thinner. 
The  dishes  before  him  grew  lighter  and  lighter, 
The  buttons  behind  him  pulled  tighter  and  tighter; 
Yet  there  at  his  ease  he  was  gloriously  munching — 
A  sight  for  the  hungry  to  look  at  him  lunching ! 

Pumpkin  pies  as  yellow  as  gold — 
Melting  lusciousness  untold ! 
Puddings,  pickles,  sauces  various. 
These  to  tender  lads  precarious ! 
Last  of  all — by  no  means  least — 
Crowning  all  the  jolly  feast, 
Making  all  the  air  quite  murky, 
Smoked  the  plump  and  light  brown  turkey. 

The  dinner  is  finished,  and  Tommy  now  tries 
To  jump  from  the  table — he  cannot  arise! 
He  really  has  grown  such  a  wonderful  size ! 
The  viands  are  smoking  right  under  his  nose, 
And  somehow,  he  falls  in  a  sort  of  a  doze. 

"Rat,  tat,  tat!  upon  the  door, 
In  come  turkeys  three  and  four, 
Then,  in  pairs,  a  hundred  more ! 
Gobbling,  strutting  up  and  down, 
The  elite  of  Turkey  town ! 
Round  the  room  they  take  their  places 
With  the  most  imposing  faces. 
Shouts  a  gobbler  ('tis  their  leader)  — 
By  his  paunch  a  splendid  feeder — 
"Tell  us  what  the  present  case  is !" 


180  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

A  dapper  little  biped  rose  and  spoke  an  hour  or  so ; 
I'm  not  about  to  tell  you  all  the  fellow  said,  you  know ; 
But  this  is  in  a  nutshell  what  his  speech  amounted  to — 
It  made  poor  Tommy's  cheeks  turn  white,  it  made  his  nose  turn 
t.  blue : 


"First  and  foremost,  fellow  fowls, 
Look  at  yonder  urchin's  jowls. 
See !  the  best  blood  of  our  race 
There  has  found  a  dwelling  place. 
Lo !  our  monarch  on  the  plate — 
Mark  his  stern  and  awful  fate ! 
Turkeys,  pause  and  contemplate. 
Here  we  catch  a  tyrant  napping, 
Let  us  give  him  now  a  rapping !" 


That  noisy,  fierce,  avenging  band, 

Trussed  poor  Tommy,  foot  and  hand! 

As  many  gobblers  as  were  able 

Took  knives  and  forks  from  off  the  table. 

They  put  him  on  a  monstrous  platter — 

There  never  was  a  turkey  fatter ! 

Around  the  board  they  range  in  line, 

And  only  wait  a  given  sign. 

The  carver  stands  before  the  victim, 

But  just  before  the  turkey  nicked  him — 


Wee  Tommy  wakened  with  a  scream 
And  found  it  all  a  funny  dream ! 
Made,  we  think,  beyond  all  question, 
By  a  touch  of  indigestion. 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  181 

Thanksgiving,  Then  and  Now 


By  M.  Alfredda  Shirley. 


Characters 


Sadie, 
Ljllie, 
Sidney, 
Frank. 


Scene. — A  Room.    Sadie  and  Lielie  discovered. 

Sadie.  Oh,  Lillie !  just  think!  To-morrow  [next  week  or 
any  other  date,  can  be  substituted]  is  Thanksgiving  Day.  I'm  so 
glad  it  is  almost  here.  We're  going  to  have  a  houseful  of  com- 
pany, and  lots  of  fun. 

LiEEiE.  So  are  we ;  but  we  mustn't  forget  what  is  meant  by 
Thanksgiving  Day.  I  suppose  we  all  have  something  to  be  thank- 
ful for. 

Sadie.     I  have.     Papa  has  promised  me  a  new  dress,  and 
mamma  bought  me  the  loveliest  new  hat  yesterday. 
[Enter   Sidney  and  Frank.] 

Sidney  That  sounds  just  like  a  girl,  always  talking  about 
some  finery  to  wear.  I  am  thankful  that  we're  going  to  have  a 
few  days  of  vacation.  I'm  going  into  the  woods  and  hunt  squir- 
rels and  gather  nuts  and  have  a  jolly  time.  What  are  you  thank- 
ful for,  Frank? 

Frank.  I'm  thankful  that  I  live  in  the  twentieth  century  in- 
stead of  the  seventeenth,  that  I  am  right  here  in  the  United  States 
and  didn't  have  to  spend  sixty-three  days  crossing  a  stormy  ocean 
to  get  here,  and  that  I  don't  have  to  warm  my  toes  by  a  fire  built 
on  the  snow,  and  keep  one  eye  glancing  over  my  shoulder  all  the 
time  to  see  if  there's  a  redskin  anywhere  around  taking  me  for  a 
target. 

Sidney.  Oh,  pshaw !  I'd  like  to  have  been  there.  I'd  have 
left  such  timid  fellows  as  you  snuggled  in  the  cabin  of  the  May- 


182  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

flower,  and  I'd  have  gone  to  help  find  a  place  for  a  settlement. 
I'd  like  to  have  been  the  first  one  to  jump  ashore. 

Frank.  Suppose  your  clothes  had  been  frozen  so  stiff  you 
couldn't  jump?  It  must  have  been  like  wearing  a  coat  of  mail 
made  of  ice  instead  of  steel. 

Sidney.  Well,  I'd  have  made  the  best  of  it,  anyway.  I  think 
it  must  have  been  fine  to  have  lived  in  those  days. 

Sadie.  Oh,  Sidney!  think  of  venturing  just  outside  the  door 
and  seeing  an  Indian  peeping  at  you  from"  behind  a  tree.  Ugh ! 
I'd  want  to  run  inside  the  house  and  hide. 

Sidney.     Of  course,  you  would.     That's  just  like  a  girl. 

Frank.  Guess  if  you'd  been  there  you  wouldn't  have  thought 
it  such   fun. 

Sidney  [indignantly].  What  if  an  Indian  did  peek  at  me. 
Two  could  play  at  that  game.  Couldn't  I  peek  at  him,  too?  And 
if  he  came  too  near,  I'd  have  given  him  a  dose  out  of  the  package 
Governor  Bradford  sent  to  old  Canonicus.  I  guess  he'd  have 
dodged  quick  enough.  Besides,  the  Indians  got  scared  and  ran 
away  from  the  white  men  at  first,  so  I  guess  there  wasn't  much 
danger. 

Sadie.  Perhaps  the  worst  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Puritans 
were  from  cold  and  want  of  food.  At  one  time,  you  know,  they 
had  to  divide  up  their  little  store  of  corn,  so  that  each  had  only 
five  grains  for  a  meal. 

LiEEiE.  Sadie  knows  all  about  it.  She  never  misses  in  his- 
tory. I  do  believe  she  could  say  a  whole  chapter  forward  or  back- 
ward, or  begin  in  the  middle  and  recite  both  ways. 

Sidney.  That  again  is  because  she's  a  girl.  Boys  don't 
learn  their  lessons  that  way. 

Frank.  But  how  do  you  think  you'd  like  living  on  such 
small   rations  ? 

Sidney.  I  don't  suppose  I  would  have  liked  that  part  of  it 
very  much,  but  they  made  up  for  it  with  their  plum-puddings 
and  pumpkin-pies  when  they  did  get  things  to  eat.  That's  what 
they  started  Thanksgiving  for.     Wasn't  it  ? 

LiftUE.     O  Sidney,  they  started  Thanksgiving,  as  you  call  it, 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  183 

because,  after  being  in  danger  of  starving,  God  rewarded  the  hard 
work  they  had  done  in  the  fields  by  giving  them  a  bountiful  har- 
vest; but  the  question  that  puzzles  me  is  what  could  they  do  for 
food  in  the  winter,  and  while  the  things  were  growing. 

Sidney.  Just  what  I'm  going  to  do  to-morrow.  Go  and 
hunt  for  it.    They  could  go  fishing  too. 

Sadie.     But  part  of  the  time  it  was  so  dreadfully  cold. 

Sidney.  Well,  I'd  have  gotten  on  the  right  side  of  Massa- 
soit.  He  was  a  friendly  old  savage,  you  know.  I'd  have  shaken 
hands  with  him  and  traded  an  old  jack-knife  for  a  bear-skin. 
What  was  the  use  of  freezing  when  the  Indians  had  plenty  of  furs  ? 

Frank.  Oh,  Sid,  you're  a  smart  fellow.  Why  don't  you  go 
West  and  fight  the  Indians  now?  They  have  disturbances  out 
there  every  once  in  awhile,  and  there's  the  Filipinos  and  lots  of 
new  proteges  to  watch.  It  may  be  there's  a  chance  for  you  yet 
to  show  how  much  you  can  do. 

Sidney.  Oh,  thank  you,  this  side  of  the  country  is  good 
enough  for  me.  After  all,  those  chaps  who  came  over  in  the  May- 
flower didn't  have  the  chance  to  get  an  education  that  we  have. 

LilxiE.J  It  was  eighteen  years  after  they  came  that  Harvard 
College  was  opened.  Harvard,  you  know,  was  the  first  college 
built  in  America.    The  boys  must  have  grown  to  men  by  that  time. 

Frank.  That  was  1638.  Whew !  the  old  school  is  almost 
270  years  old.  Well,  while  they  didn't  have  any  schools  the  boys 
had  a  rest  for  a  while.  They  didn't  have  to  cram  their  craniums 
full  of  all  kinds  of  "ologies." 

Sidney.  I  guess  they  were  too  busy  chopping  wood,  I  mean 
felling  trees,  to  go  to  school  or  anywhere  else,  except  to  the  meet- 
ing-house on  Sunday. 

Frank.  It  must  have  been  fun  to  ride  there  in  that  queer 
old  sleigh  Deacon  Jones  made.  It  was  rigged  up  in  such  a  comi- 
cal way  that  everybody  laughed.  He  used  the  tackling  of  his 
boat  for  a  harness,  and  they  say  to  this  day  there  are  people  who 
call  "harness"  "tackling,"  but  many  of  them  don't  know  the  rea- 
son why.  He  took  a  big  load  of  folks  to  meeting  every  Sunday 
morning.    I  think  I  would  have  enjoyed  that  myself. 


184  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Sadie.  But  when  you  think  of  the  elegant  buildings  we  have, 
the  hundreds  of  nice  school-houses,  the  cities,  and  railroads,  the 
big  stores,  and  all  the  lovely  things  in  them,  don't  you  think  it  is 
better  to  live  in  these  times? 

Lilue.  \  Yes,  and  best  of  all,  we  have  the  same  One  to  care 
for  us  who  took  care  of  the  Puritans.  I  think  we  all  have  a  great 
deal  to  thank  Him  for. 

Sidney.  Guess  you're  right.  We  needn't  forget  it  if  we  do 
go  hunting.  Come  on,  Frank,  let's  get  things  ready  for  to-mor- 
row. [Bxit  Sidney  and  Frank.] 

Sadie.     And  we'll  go  home  and  help  get  ready  too. 
[curtain.] 

Thanksgiving  Song  for  Little  Folks 


By  Wm.  Howard  Montgomery. 


In  safe  and  restful  keeping, 
Beneath  the  autumn  sun, 

The  fields  to-day  are  sleeping, 
For  harvest-work   is   done. 

The  blossoms  all  are  dying, 
Touched  by  a  chilly  hand, 

The  birds  are  southward  flying, 
To  find  a  warmer  land. 

But  neither  care  nor  sadness 
Can  mar  our  song's  refrain; 

Each  heart  exults  with  gladness, 
The  spring  must  come  again. 

The  gloomy  clouds  are  breaking, 
And  drifting  far  away; 

God's  peace  and  love  are  making 
A  glad  Thanksgiving  Day. 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  185 

Thanksgiving  in  Old  Virginia 


By  John  P.  Bocock. 


Old  black  mammy  has  a  'possum  on  to  bake 
With  sweet  potatoes,  sweeter  than  a  maple-sugar  cake ; 
And  her  pickaninny's  gone,  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
With  his  yellow-bellied  puppy  to  tree  a  fat  coon. 

The  coon  lies  a-grinning  in  the  hollow  of  a  gum 
That  the  yellow-hammer  uses  for  his  morning  drum; 
While  the  gray  squirrel  chuckles,  in  high  old  glee, 
At  the  hickory-nuts  a-raining  from  the  hickory-nut  tree. 

The  gray  owl  shivers  on  a  dead  oak  limb 
And  blinks  in  the  sunshine,  mellow  and  dim ; 
While  molly-cotton  rabbit  gives  a  half  a  dozen  hops, 
And  hears  her  heart  beating,  of  a  sudden,  and  stops. 

The  air  is  so  fine  and  so  soft  and  so  clear. 
That  the  fences  seem  far  and  the  mountains  seem  near; 
Till  the  partridges  fly  to  the  fences  and  'light, 
And  call  out  a  song  about  "Old  Bob  White !" 

"Old  Bob  White,  are  your  crops  all  right? 
Is  there  wheat  beneath  the  barn  for  the  first  cold  night? 
The  guinea-hens  and  turkeys  find  its  shelter  mighty  warm ; 
We'll  gather  in  among  'em  when  there  comes  a  storm." 

The  wild  turkey's  calling  from  the  far  hillside; 
The  foxhounds  are  baying  on  the  long  divide ; 
There's  a  fat  pig  squealing,  for  life  is  sweet — 
But  not  much  sweeter  than  his  sausage  meat! 


186  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

"Makin5  Things  A-Purpose  To  Be  Et.' 


By  George  R.  Horton. 


Directions  for  Reciting  by  Mae  R.  Perkins. 


I  tell  you  they's  strange  things  doin' 
In  our  kitchen  these  here  days ; 
[Nod  head  on  "I  tell  you" ;  sway  head  to  right  and  left  as  if 
saying,  "yes,  sir  ee,  you  just  ought  to  see" ;  eyes  wide  open.] 
Ma's  a-fussin'  and  a-stewin', 
An'  a-runnin'  forty  ways 
[Give  expression  of  confusion;  bring  hands  up  and  make  de- 
scending gesture  on  "forty."] 

To  oncet,  a'most,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
[Face  shows  the  pleasure  you  take  in  eating  the  good  things 
ma  makes.] 

Now  las'  night  I  heard  her  choppin'; 
So  I  went  out  jes'  to  see 
[Face  expresses  a  little  wonderment ;  bend  head  as  if  listen- 
ing; extend  hand  in  direction  of  noise.] 

What  wuz  doin'.     Never  stoppin', 
She  sez,  "Boy,  don't  bother  me." 
[Shake  head;  imitate  mother  on  "boy,  don't  bother  me."] 
But,  gee !    I  seen,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
[Stand  very  erect;  open  eyes  wide  on  "gee" ;  shake  head  on 
"an'  you  jes'  bet."] 

She  was  stirrin'  an'  a-mixin' 
[Give  in  little  more  positive  manner  and  with  increased  joy 
in  anticipation  of  dinner.] 

Apples,  meat  an'  raisins,  too ; 
"Ma,  what  is  it  you'r  a-fixin'?" 
[Face  full  of  joy;  go  through  motion  of  mixing  and  stwring.] 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  187 

I  asked.     "Mince-meat,"  she  sez,  whew ! 
Say,  ma's  all  right,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
Wish  ma  hadn't  caught  me  tastin' 
[Ask  in  inquiring  manner  as  a  boy  zvould  do.    Give  "mince- 
meat" as  the  mother  said  it,  as  she  would  say  it  while  she  is  busy 
working  around  table  and  stove.     Give  "whew"  as  if  you  could 
smell  the  good  things  now.     Give  "ma's  all  right"  as  if  saying 
"indeed  she  is."    Give  rest  of  stanza  as  if  saying,  "you  ought  to 
taste  them,  I  just  can't  keep  my  lingers  out."] 
Of  the  citron  on  th'  plate ; 
Gee !  she  don't  believe  in  wastin' 
[Step  back  as  if  ashamed  and  sorry.] 
Any  time  !    She  didn't  wait — 
But  ma's  all  right,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
[Step  forzvard  and  give  as  if  saying,  "she  didn't  leave  any 
on  the  plate,  anyway.     I  don't  think  she  ought  to  be  so  cross,  a 
boy  wants  a  little  taste."     If  you  are  good  at  imitating,  you  can 
show  how  the  mother  slapped  him  or  pushed  him  aivay  from  table 
on  "she  didn't  zvait —     "] 

She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
"Pa,"  sez  I,  "that  gobbler's  struttin' 
[Give  in  more  forgiving  manner  as  if  saying  "she's  all  right, 
any  way,  for  if  it  wasn't  for  ma  I  wouldn't  get  all  these  good 
things  to  eat."] 

'S  tho'  he  owned  the  farm  and  all." 
"Boy,'  he  sez,  "the  dash  he's  cuttin' 
[Point  to  gobbler  and  look  at  pa.] 

Is  the  pride  that  marks   his   fall. 
Ma'll  find  him,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
[Nod  head  and  give  in  little  heavier  voice  as  if  trying  to  imi- 
tate pa  and  in  a  tone  that  says  it  is  conceit  and  pride  that  often 
makes  us  fall.] 

She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et." 
He'll  look  fine  chuck  full  o'  stuffin' 
[Give  in  a  manner  that  says  "that's  the  end  of  him."] 


188  THANKSGIVING   CEIEBRATIONS 

Cracklin',  roasted  good  an'  brown, 
Ma'll  fill  him  till  he's  puffin  — 
[Give  as  if  you  could  see  gobbler  laid  out  on  kitchen-table, 
stuffed  ready  for  oven.] 

Gee !   I'll  get  all  I  can  down; 
[Give  as  if  saying  "ma  knows  just  hoiv  to  fix  him."] 
For  ma's  all  right,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
I  should  think  they'd  have  Thanksgivin' 
[Place  left  hand  upon  chest  near  throat  as  if  you  could  taste 
it  going  dozvn.] 

Oftener  'n  onct  a  year; 
Then  there'd  be  great  joy  in  livin' ; 
[Step  more  towards  audience  and  give  in   tone   that  says, 
"wouldn't  you  think  they'd  have  Thanksgiving  oftener" ;  face  and 
head  says  "novo,  wouldn't  you?"] 

P'r'aps  it's  'cause  Christmas 's  near — 
[In  affirmative   manner.] 

Ma's  busy  then,  an'  you  jes'  bet 
[As  if  saying  "oh,  I  knozv."] 

She's  makin'  things  a-purpose  to  be  et. 
[As  if  saying,  "ma  works  just  the  same  then."    Rub  stomach 
as  if  saying,  "oh,  it's  so  good."     Bxit,  rubbing  stomach.     Face 
shows  extreme  satisfaction  that,  your  mother's  cooking  is  all  right.] 

Around  Thanksgiving  Time 

Snappy  nights  an'  mawnin's, 

Tendah,  yaller  noons, 
Jes'  de  time  fer  huntin' 

Hick'ry-nuts  an'  coons. 
Talk  erbout  yo'  summah, 
Autumn  is  de  hummah, 

Sets  yo'  blood  er  dancin', 

An'  yo'  feet  er  prancin', 
Jes'  fer  fun  o'  livin' 

These  yer  nights  an'  noons, 


THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS  189 

When  de  hull  creation's 

Singin'  harvest  tunes ! 
Blue  de  sky  above  yo', 

Red  de  maple  leaves; 
Nigger  crows  er  callin' 

Down  among  de  sheaves. 
Talk  erbout  yo'  paintin' 
Nature  knows  it  ain't  in 

Any  secret  colah, 

'Cept  ter  make  it  dullah, 
Beside  huh  maple  leaves, 

When  befoh  de  frost  king, 
Summah  sets  an'  grieves ! 
Cabin  smoke  er  curlin' — 

Fried-cakes  in  de  air, 
Smellin'  hot  an'  crispy 

A'most  everywhere. 
Talk  erbout  yo'  eatin', 
Autumn  gives  de  greetin', 

Ahead  of  every  season, 

For  de  bestest  reason. 
Things  is  growed  an'  gathered, 

Cookin's  in  de  air, 
Settin'  hungry  fellahs 

Lookinsr  fer  a  share ! 


Thankful  Frog  and  Unthankful  Cat 

There  was  an  old  cat  who  lived  in  a  house,  and  a  young  frog 
who  lived  in  a  little  pond  near  the  rain-barrel.    The  house-cat  had 
a  bad  temper,  but  the  frog  was  very  cheerful.     One  day  as  the 
frog  hooped  past  the  cat,  he  was  "singing  a  little  tune : 
"I'm  so  thankful  the  sun  is  a-shinin', 

My  honey,  my  honey, 
I'm  so  glad  my  coat's  got  a  linin', 
My  honey." 


190  THANKSGIVING    CELEBRATIONS 

"Always  singing  some  foolish  tune,"  the  old  cat  snarled. 
The  next  day  was  rainy ;  the  old  frog  came  along  again  hip- 
pity-hop-hippity-hop.     He  was  singing  the  same  little  tune  and 
these  words : 

"I'm  so  thankful  de  rain  is  a-pourin', 

My  honey,  my  honey. 
For  it's  just  de  day  to  have  a  scourin', 
My  honey." 
"Easy  to  please,"  the  old  cat  snarled. 
"Ain't  it  a  fine  day !"  said  the  frog,  puffing  his  throat. 
"Go  'way!"  said  the  cat.    "You  are  a  fresh  thing." 
So  the  frog  hopped  off,  humming  as  he  went : 
"Golly,  but  I'm  glad  to-day  is  Sunday, 

My  honey,  my  honey, 
For  dere's  possum  to-day  and  pork  Monday, 
My  honey." 
The  frog  sang  so  many  of  these  little  songs  that  the  old  cat 
said  to  him  spitefully  one  evening,  as  he  passed  near  her  in  his 
hopping : 

"Is  there  anything  more  you  have  to  be  thankful  for?" 
"My  land,  yes !"  said  the  frog,  "a.  heap  o'  things !     I  ain't  got 
right  well  started  yet.     You  ain't  really  heard  me  sing  yet,  Sister 
Cat!"    Then  he  started  off,  always  with  the  same  little  tune: 
"I'm  so  thankful  de  wind  is  blowin, 

My  honey,  my  honey. 
For  by  and  by  dere's  gwine  ter  be  snowing', 

My  honey. 
I'm  so  thankful  de  ole  crow's  gone, 

My  honey,  my  honey; 
Dat  stole  de  corn  from  Master's  barn, 

My  honey. 
I'm  so  thankful  de  hips  and  de  haws 
Is  gettin   ripe  fer  de  pies  and  de  daws. 
I'm  just  as  glad  as  I  kin  be 
Dat  dey're  cuttin'  down  de  rosin  tree. 
I'm  so  glad  it's  warm  in  de  house, 


THANKSGIVING  CELEBRATIONS  191 

It's  good  for  de  folks  and  good  for  de  mouse. 

I'm  so  glad  it's  cool  in  de  pond, 

Dat  de  woods  is  yonder  and  de  sky  beyond." 

"Oh,  stop!"  said  the  cat,  spitefully.  But  the  frog  did  not 
hear.  He  had  swung  fully  into  the  gait  of  his  singing  now  and  he 
could  hear  nothing  but  the  sound  of  his  own  voice. 

Finally  the  cat  turned  over  and  went  to  sleep  "on  her  head." 
But  the  frog  went  right  on.  "And  they  do  say  dat  he  just  sot  thar 
an'  just  fa'rly  busted  hisself  singin'  de  whole  night  long." 

In  the  morning  the  cat  opened  one  eye  and  said  again  more 
spitefully  than  ever: 

"Anything  more  you're  thankful  for,  Brother  Frog?" 

The  frog  scratched  his  head.  Of  course,  he  had  not  named 
nearly  all  the  things,  but  you  see  his  voice  was  giving  out.  His 
high  fine  tenor  sounded  now  like  a  cracked  bass.  Still,  he 
scratched  his  head  quite  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  hoarsely,  "I'm  thankful,  Sister  Cat,  I'm  thank- 
ful that  I'm  thankful!" 

And  they  do  say  dat  all  de  other  frogs  dey  got  to  sayin'  de 
same  thing  and  dat  dey  just  kep'  on  a  sayin'  it  and  dat  dey's  a- 
sayin'  it  yet !  

Thanksgiving  Acrostic 

By  Susan  M.  Best. 


T  is  for  turkey  the  biggest  in  town, 

H  is  for  Hattie  who  baked  it  so  brown, 

A  is  for  apples  the  best  we  could  find, 

N   is  for  nuts  that  we  eat  when  we've  dined, 

K  is  for  kisses  for  those  we  love  best, 

S   is  for  salad  we  serve  to  each  guest, 

G  is  for  gravy  that  every  one  takes, 

I  is  for  ice  cream  that  comes  with  the  cakes, 

V  is  for  verses  on  peppermint  drops, 

I  's    for  inquiries' when  any  one  stops, 

N  's    for  the  way  that  we  nibble  our  cheese, 

G  is  for  grace  when  we're  done  with  all  these. 


192  THANKSGIVING   CELEBRATIONS 

Thanksgiving  Toasts 


"The  Two  National  Fowls  of  America." — The  Federal  Eagle 
and  the  Festal  Turkey — May  we  always  have  peace  under  the 
wings  of  the  one,  and  be  able  to  obtain  a  piece  from  the  breast  of 
the  other ! 

"Thanksgiving." — Reunion  Day,  and  a  welcome  to  the  wan- 
derers who  have  come  back  to  join  the  Old  Family  Group. 

"Our  Opinion  on  the  'Eastern  Question' " — We  agree  with 
Russia,  that  Turkey  ought  to  be  "gobbled." 

"The  Puritan  Fathers." — They  squelched  mince-pie  and  plum- 
pudding,  but  they  introduced  pumpkin-pie  as  a  succedaneum. 

"The  Yankee  Girls." — Young  May  flowers,  of  the  old  "May- 
flower" stock. 

"The  Health  of  our  Venerable  Host." — Although  an  Ameri- 
can sovereign,  he  is  one  of  the  best  grand  seniors  that  ever  pre- 
sided over  turkey. 

"Thanksgiving." — The  magnetic  festival  that  draws  back  er- 
ratic wanderers  to  the  Old  Folks  at  Home. 

"The  Thanksgiving  Board." — While  it  groans  with  plenty 
within,  who  cares  for  the  whistling  of  the  wind  without? 

The  Pastimes  of  Thanksgiving,  and  the  Present  Times  in 
which  we  enjoy  them. 

"Thanksgiving." — The  religious  and  social  festival  that  con- 
verts every  family  mansion  into  a  family  meeting-house. 

"The  Great  American  Birds." — May  we  have  them  where  we 
love  them  best — the  Turkeys  on  our  tables,  the  Eagles  in  our 
pockets. 

Here's  to  the  day  when  first  the  Yankees 
Acknowledged  Heaven's  good  gifts  with  Thank'ees. 


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